Stone the Crows
by MaverickLover2
Summary: Bailey and Spencer, Private Investigators, are hired to handle all manner of things for a music producer who is staging a big concert at the Hollywood Bowl. Trouble is there's a religious cult out to stop them.
1. Chapter 1

Stone the Crows

Chapter 1

Things in the agency had been going pretty well when the call came in. Stu was just back from Denver and a very pleased client; Jeff had handled a contentious child custody case and helped the mother retain full custody. Needless to say she was overjoyed with the work performed by Bailey & Spencer. Suzanne was her normal cheerful self and, as usual, Roscoe was broke. Kookie had gotten two days off and would be back on Wednesday.

Jeff had just left to pick up something at the printers, so the call was directed to Stuart. It was a Mr. Arthur Klein. "Yes, this is Stuart Bailey. Yes, I'm familiar with your work. I was in the audience for the last concert that Ferrante and Teicher gave at the Hollywood Bowl. Spectacular, I must admit. You're doing what? And who is the artist? A rock and roll band. Well, that will certainly be different. You want us to do what? For how long? I can't guarantee you anything, Mr. Klein, but my partner and I would certainly be willing to listen to you. Can you come in this afternoon? Three o'clock works well. Alright, I look forward to meeting you, too. See you at three."

Stu buzzed Suzanne. "When's Jeff due back?"

"Any time, Stuart."

"Alright, we've got a three o'clock meeting here in the office with Arthur Klein."

"The Arthur Klein that – "

"Yes, that Arthur Klein. Is Roscoe out there?"

"Of course."

"Send him in, would you please."

Roscoe knocked once and walked in, then made himself comfortable in a chair. "There's a gelding running in the claimer race at Santa Anita, Stu. If I had –"

"Roscoe, since Kookie's out of town today, I need you to find out something for me."

"But Stu, if I – "

"Roscoe, if you bet on a horse, it finishes last. I need you to see what you can find out about Arthur Klein, and I need to know by two thirty. Today."

"Who's Arthur Klein?"

"The biggest music producer in the industry right now. Now go."

Roscoe laughed. "The things I do for money." He pulled Stu's door shut as he left.

Bailey pulled out his pipe and lit it; he needed time to think. The call was certainly unexpected. When you produce the kind of music Ferranti & Teicher perform, what are you doing with a rock and roll band?

It was almost ten minutes later when Suzanne buzzed him again. "Stuart, Jeff's here."

Stu got up and knocked on Jeff's door. "Come on in, Stu."

"We've got a meeting at three o'clock with Arthur Klein."

Jeff blinked and gave Stu a blank look. "Who's Arthur Klein?"

"Big music producer. Ferranti & Teicher, Vic Damone, Dean Martin, Perry Como, Ella Fitzgerald, to name a few."

"Oh. What does he want with us?"

"Don't know yet," Stuart replied. "I sent Roscoe out to see if there's anything we should know about Mr. Klein."

"Your office?" When there was a small meeting, they usually used Stu's office. For a big meeting, they booked the conference room down the hall.

"Sure. Suzanne can buzz us when he's here."

The afternoon passed faster than Stu expected, and Roscoe arrived five minutes before Arthur Klein. "As far as anybody knows, he's clean. Either that or he's got it well hidden. No, there's nothing on him."

"Thanks, Roscoe. You make a good substitute Kookie."

Suzanne buzzed both Stu and Jeff five minutes later. "Mr. Klein is here for the three o'clock meeting."

Jeff came through the door between the offices, and Stu buzzed her back. "Send him in, Suzanne."

Stu directed Klein to a chair, Jeff took the other one. "I'm Stuart Bailey and this is my partner, Jeff Spencer."

"Mr. Bailey, Mr. Spencer. It's good to meet you two finally."

"You know of our firm, then?" Jeff asked.

"Know of you? I've heard nothing but 'Get Bailey & Spencer' 'You Need Bailey & Spencer' for days."

"Well, it's nice to know we're needed," Jeff remarked.

"But what are we needed for?" Stu asked bluntly.

"Gentlemen, I'd like to hire Bailey and Spencer for a multitude of things. The pay will be quite lucrative, I assure you."

"What multitude of things, Mr. Klein?"

"Oh, lots. Like vetting every one of our employees, setting up security at the Hollywood Bowl concert, and personally handling security backstage both before, during and after the group performs."

"And who would be performing, Mr. Klein?" Stuart asked the producer.

"Oh, I thought I told you over the phone. They're a brand new band and they're going to be worth millions. They're called The Crows."

"The what?" Stu asked, knowing that he must not have heard the producer correctly.

"The Crows."

"That's what I thought you said."

"Pardon me, Mr. Klein," Jeff interjected, "but when I hear the word crows I think of cornfields and dead snakes."

"You must have had an interesting childhood, Mr. Spencer."

"Please, it's Stu and Jeff." Jeff had already heard enough "Mr. Spencer and Mr. Bailey."

"Then you must call me Arthur."

"I did have an interesting childhood, Arthur. Y'see, we had a cornfield and one day I found a dead snake in it. By morning the crows had picked that snake clean. Nothing left but the ribs and the backbone."

"When is this concert, Arthur?" Stu asked the producer. He'd always been impressed with the name Arthur Klein, but there was little that was impressive about the man. He stood about five foot eight, with brown hair and brown eyes, and was fairly average looking. The only thing impressive about him was his suit, which Stu guessed was Italian Silk and very expensive.

"A month from today, on July twenty-third."

"We have plenty of time if we decide to take the job," Jeff assumed.

"Not really, Jeff. We have over three hundred and fifty employees, and that's not counting the band."

"Three hundred and – "

"Fifty." Klein finished for Jeff.


	2. Chapter 2

Stone the Crows

Chapter 2

"That's a lot of vetting, Arthur, in a small amount of time," Stu remarked.

"That's part of why we're willing to pay the fee we're offering," Klein answered.

"Which is? The fee, I mean," came from Jeff. Stu was the partner that usually dealt with the financial side of the business, but Jeff wanted to know if this job was going to pay them for the amount of time it would take.

"Ten thousand dollars up front. Another ten thousand after the concert."

Stu and Jeff looked at each other. "Plus expenses, of course," Stu added.

"Of course."

The amount of money offered had piqued Stu's curiosity. "And when would we be able to start?"

"Is tomorrow too soon?" Arthur Klein was smiling. The money had gotten them, of course, he thought. But everyone told him that Bailey and Spencer were the best.

"We'll need a complete list of employees, with names addresses, phone numbers, dates of birth, Social Security number, and spouse's name."

"Yes, of course. If you two can come to the Bowl tomorrow I'll have that ready for you. Plus you can meet the supervisors and my manager, Roger Bryzinski. Say about two o'clock?"

"We'll be there," Stu told the producer.

Handshakes all around, and Arthur Klein was gone.

"What have we done?" Stuart asked.

"Just paid our operating expenses for the next year," Jeff answered. "I sure hope Roscoe was right."

XXXXXXXX

"Well, they took the job," Arthur Klein told his manager. "We need a list of all employees with name, address, phone number, date of birth and spouse's name. And something else. Oh yes, Social Security number."

"Is all that really necessary, Arthur?"

"Evidently," Klein answered. "Just remember, you were one of the employees who insisted that I engage Bailey and Spencer. So don't complain now."

"Did you tell them about . . . you know?" Roger hesitated.

"Don't be absurd. Of course not. Besides, if they set up security properly, there should be no problem."

"I suppose you're right. Still . . . "

"You have other things to worry about, Roger. Better get that list together."

The manager nodded his head and left Klein's office. Once he was sure he was alone, he got up and locked the door. Only then did he pull out the piece of paper hidden in his desk drawer. He opened it up, read the note over again, then put it back where he got it. "Let's hope the two of you are as good as everyone says you are."

XXXXXXXX

After five o'clock, Jeff and Stu had gone over to Dino's for a quick drink. Both had dates that night; Jeff with a sweet little redhead he'd been seeing for several weeks, Stu with the latest in a string of blondes that reminded him of Nina Harper. At least this one seemed to have a brain. The foursome was going to meet up at The Dry Martini, a new club that had fabulous appetizers, great martini's and, best of all, dancing.

Right now they were sitting in the back booth, the thinkin' and drinkin' booth as they called it. They were talking about what preparations they had to make to start the Klein job, and how much actual legwork it would require. "Probably not as much as we think," Stu prophesized. "Assume ninety to ninety-five percent first-round clearance rate. That only leaves five to ten percent that require further investigation. We can handle that."

"I don't know, Stu. There's something fishy about this, don't you think?"

"Maybe. Something feels off, but my instincts still aren't up to snuff. I could be seeing something that's not there. And the payday. How could we refuse that?"

Jeff lit a cigarette. Stu was already smoking his pipe. "Too big of an offer to be on the up and up, you think? Or could Mr. Klein have left something out?"

"Sure he could, Jeff, but why would he?"

"I don't know, Stu, but something smells like three-day-old fish to me."

"Look, Jeff, if you feel that strongly about, we can still turn it down."

Jeff stubbed out his cigarette. "No, the money's too good to turn down. Besides, I'm probably barking up the wrong tree."

"I'm serious. We can absolutely turn it down."

"No, we'd be crazy to turn it down, just because I got a quiver in my belly. Let's go back and lock up the office so we can go home and get cleaned up before tonight."

"Tonight? Oh, that's right, The Dry Martini. I'll try to be at my wittiest tonight."

"Save it for another night, Stu. It's too loud in there to be witty."

"One martini and I won't care. Or notice."

"No, no. We've got to be at our best tomorrow, just in case Klein is trying to slip something past us."

"Jefferson, give it a rest. I know you're suspicious and I know you want us to be alert tomorrow. You don't need to pound it into my brain with a sledgehammer." As soon as the words were out of Stu's mouth he regretted them. "Look, I know you're only trying to protect us, and I promise you I'll be on the lookout for anything that seems . . . well, you know what I mean."

"That's good enough for me. I know you'll do your best. Come on, let's go have some fun."

"Kicking and screaming, he dragged his reluctant partner out into the night. For which his reluctant partner was grateful."


	3. Chapter 3

Stone the Crows

Chapter 3

Jeff was in the office before Stu, which was a rarity. By the time Stu got there, Jeff was already on his second cup of coffee. "Good morning, Suzanne," Stu greeted their receptionist as he breezed in. Jeff caught Stu on the way to his office.

"How are you feeling this morning?" Jeff asked.

"Fine," Stu replied. He saw the look on Jeff's face and quickly asked, "Why, did I have that good a time last night?"

"You know, you dance pretty well for an old man."

"Old man, huh? I didn't hear any complaints. And yes, I'm ready for our meeting. By the way, Kookie's back."

"Good. We're going to need him."

"Suzanne, when Kookie comes in will you send him in to see Jeff or me?"

Jeff sat down in Stu's office. "You know, I think all that worrying last night was just nerves. I feel a lot better about the job this morning."

"Funny, I feel more suspicious."

"Whatever it is, worrying will just get you ginchy, dads." Kookie appeared out of nowhere, with a big smile and two cups of coffee.

"I'm going to have coffee coming out my pores," Jeff was laughing, but he took the coffee anyway.

"Well, I'm not." This was Stuart's first cup since leaving his apartment. "Good to see you back, Kookie. We're going to have work for you."

"Anything, dad. Anything that challenges my brain."

"We won't know how much until this afternoon. We've got a two o'clock meeting with Arthur Klein."

Kookie had a stricken look. "The Arthur Klein?"

Jeff was confused. "Is there more than one?"

"No, there's only one Arthur Klein." Of that, Bailey was sure. "I had no idea you'd know who Arthur Klein was, Kookie."

"Just the coolest cat in the music biz. Have you heard of his new group – "

"The Crows," Stu finished for him.

"Is that who you're going to see?"

"Like, yes." Spencer grinned smugly.

"I'm in, dad."

The partners spent the rest of the morning doing paperwork and when it came time for lunch, they decided to have Suzanne order from the sandwich shop down the street. "Be sure you get lunch for yourself, Suzanne," Stu told her. "And it's on us."

"Thank you, Stuart."

Lunch and the afternoon proceeded in the usual manner, with telephone calls and client reports, and before either of them knew it, it was time to leave. "I'll drive," Jeff offered, and the way Stuart's head felt it seemed like a good idea. Too much liquor and dancing and too little sleep, aided by erratic eating habits, and Stu wished he'd taken some aspirin before leaving the office. But he hadn't, and he knew he was just going to have to put up with the headache.

"Hmm?" he asked to Jeff's question.

"I said it's a beautiful day, don't you think?"

"Oh. Yes."

Jeff was still worried about his partner, though he wasn't inclined to tell him so. It had been weeks since the inevitable breakup of Stu and Nina Harper, and Stuart was still having a difficult time with his decision. The string of blonde starlets and party girls was a testament to just how hard. He wouldn't talk about it and, even though it appeared things were getting easier for him, Jeff knew that deep down Stu was still enamored of her.

Jeff hoped this job would keep Stuart too busy to even think about Nina. Something had to work or it would be obvious the man had made the wrong choice. Jeff hadn't even considered what he would do without Stu for a partner.

Before either of them had time to think about it, they were at the Bowl. Very few people had any idea how enormous the place actually was. That's because all the offices, rehearsal halls, recording studios and press rooms were underground. Jeff parked in the employee lot, which was practically filled to overflowing. Stu took a look around and said, "Klein wasn't kidding about having three-hundred-fifty employees, was he?"

"Doesn't look that way," came Jeff's quick reply.

They made their way to the elevators and punched in L3 for the floor. It was an eerie feeling, knowing they were going down into the earth in a town where earthquakes were the norm rather than the exception.

When the doors opened it was like walking into another world. Bright lights, soft music, people scurrying back and forth, and a young lady in what looked like a uniform politely waiting for them, as it turned out. "Mr. Bailey, Mr. Spencer?" she inquired.

"Yes," they both answered at once.

"Please follow me. Mr. Klein is most anxious to see you."

The double wood doors opened to an office of untold luxury. Arthur Klein's desk was solid mahogany, and the chairs in front of it appeared to be covered in blue velvet. A liquor cabinet stood in one corner, and a bar was next to it. The very newest in audio equipment rested on a stand that fit it perfectly, and behind the desk sat the man himself. "Gentlemen, come in, have a seat. It's five o'clock on the east coast. Would anyone like a cocktail?"

"No cocktail for me, Arthur, but I could stand a brandy," Stu replied.

"No, thank you, Arthur," came from Jeff.

"Molly, come in here, please," Arthur spoke to the thin air. No intercom graced his desk, yet in just a moment a beautiful young woman entered thru the double doors. "A brandy for Mr. Bailey and a dry martini for me. Vodka, please. Jeff, we have all kinds of juice. Would you like something of that nature?"

"That sounds good, Arthur. How about papaya juice?"

"Molly?"

In less than five minutes Molly had their drinks ready. Stuart was hoping that the brandy would ease his headache.

"Stuart, Jeff, I look forward to working together," Arthur toasted Bailey and Spencer.

"The same for us, Arthur. This going to be a very interesting project."


	4. Chapter 4

Stone the Crows

Chapter 4

"Well, before we get started I want to introduce you to the crew. Molly, send Roger in please."

"How are you doing that?" Jeff asked.

"Doing what, Jeff?"

"You have no intercom and you speak normally, and yet Molly obviously hears you."

Arthur laughed. "Everyone asks that. Internal intercom. Speakers are hidden in the walls and ceiling."

The doors opened and a man of about thirty-five walked in. Tall and thin, with a crooked nose and chestnut hair, he came over with his hand outstretched. "Mr. Bailey, Mr. Spencer, a pleasure to meet you. I'm Roger Bryzinski, manager of KleinCo., Arthur's firm. We've heard a lot about Bailey and Spencer."

"We've worked long and hard to earn our reputation, Mr. Bryzinski, and we're proud of it."

"And you have reason to be, Mr. Bailey. You're one of the best in the business."

Jeff spoke up, with a smile on his face. "Now that we're done patting ourselves on the back, Mr. Bryzinski, I hope you have something for us. And please call us Stu and Jeff."

The tall man smiled. "And I'm Roger. Molly, please bring in that folder I gave you."

Molly once again appeared, folder in hand, and gave it to Roger. "By the way, this is Molly, Arthur's right hand. Even he will admit that he can't scratch his nose without her. Molly, this is Mr. Spencer and Mr. Bailey. Give them anything they ask for."

Molly nodded and left. "She's a gem, and Roger's right, I couldn't do anything without her. And lest you gentlemen get any ideas, I pay her an extraordinary amount of money, so no one can hire her away." Arthur wore a smile on his face, but there was a tone of menace in his voice. He turned to Roger. "Are the supervisors ready?"

"In the cafeteria. All ready and waiting."

"Good. Let's go make introductions."

Arthur led them out of the office and down the hall to the elevators. "We have to go one floor up for the cafeteria," he explained as he pushed LL2 on the buttons. When the doors opened it was apparent that LL2 was not as luxurious as LL3. Down a small corridor and into a room marked 'Cafeteria.' There were about fifteen or sixteen men inside; KleinCo. Supervisors. Stu and Jeff were introduced all around and Arthur made it clear that Bailey and Spencer were to be given anything and everything they asked for.

Back to Arthur's office they went, where Molly and Roger were to take over and give them a tour of the facilities. "You'll get to hear The Crows, too. They're rehearsing on Lower Level One. I'm anxious to find out what you think of them."

Stu turned to Jeff and asked quietly, "What should one think of a group named The Crows?"

"The only thing I can think of is 'caw, caw'."

They followed Molly and Roger obediently through Lower Level Three before proceeding to Lower Level Two, and finally up to Lower Level One. The band was taking a break; Stu and Jeff scrutinized them carefully, Stu even more so than his partner. There were five band members in all; three guitarists, one keyboard player and one drummer.

"They look as though they need a bath," Bailey remarked, again only to his partner.

"We'll come back when we're done with this level. They should be playing again," Roger explained.

As they walked past the area where the band was sitting, it was Jeff's turn. "They smell like they need a bath, too."

Stu did his best to suppress a laugh.

XXXXXXXX

By the time they finished the tour, up on the actual performance stage, neither was especially eager to return to Lower Lever One and hear the band play. The sound carried up to where they were, and all Jeff and Stu could do was stare at each other. Roger was called back down to Lower Level Three and Molly was left to return the two private investigators to the rehearsal stage. "God, I wish I had something to put in my ears," Jeff moaned.

"You? I've had a terrible headache all day and with that racket it's getting worse. Molly, do we have to go back down to hear the band? I think we can hear them just fine from here."

"I was given instructions to make sure you saw the band in rehearsal, Mr. Bailey. It's really important that you know what the boys sound like and what they all look like."

There was something about the way Molly phrased her answer that made Stu even more suspicious than he already was. He turned to his partner. "Jeff, I think we better go back downstairs."

Jeff nodded and grimaced. "Alright, since you think it's important."

"I do."

They followed Molly back down to Lower Level One. As they came off the elevator, Jeff saw a restroom and had an idea. "Molly, I need a restroom break. Stu, how about you?"

"N . . . yes, I could use one, too. We'll be right back, Molly."

Jeff entered in the restroom with Stu hot on his heels. He ducked in a stall and emerged seconds later with a wad of toilet paper in his hands. "Makeshift earplugs."

"Genius."

Each of them tore off paper and stuck it in his ears. "Not perfect but better than nothing," Jeff remarked. They emerged smiling and Molly took them back to the rehearsal stage. The two of them paid close attention to the band; not the music but what each of its members looked like. The lead guitarist was tall and blonde; the rhythm guitarist was tall, too, but had dark, curly hair. The bass guitarist wore glasses and had chestnut hair; the keyboard player was a small man, with lank brown hair and a hooked nose, and the drummer wore a goatee with dark hair. They all needed a haircut; it was in their eyes and hung down to their collars.

Even with the paper in their ears, the caterwauling from the stage was awful. How in the world did Arthur Klein expect this to be the next big thing? Stu and Jeff forced smiles to their faces and were ever so grateful when Molly headed for the elevators. They quickly disposed of the earplugs, although they had a hard time hearing each other.

She took them back to Arthur's office, where they resumed sitting in front of his desk. "Some place you've got here, Arthur," Stu told Klein. "That's a long walk when you get introduced to all the levels."

"Molly, come back in. I believe our guests are thirsty. Same as before, gentlemen?"

"I think not. Make it two Vodka Gimlets, please," Jeff answered for the both of them.

"And another Martini, Molly. Extra dry."

Once the drinks were served, Molly discreetly left the office, closing the door behind her. "Well, what do you think of The Crows?"

"While they're a fascinating band, Arthur, I'm not sure Southern California is ready for their music," Stu told him in the most diplomatic manner possible.

"But it's new, and fresh, and not like anything out there."

"That is true," Jeff added.

'Dear Lord,' both of them thought. 'What have we gotten ourselves into?'


	5. Chapter 5

Stone the Crows

Chapter 5

Stu looked over the list that came from Roger while Jeff drove back to the office. After a few minutes he spoke. "They've done a good job on compiling this list. They've even got Arthur, Roger and Molly on it. We can get Kookie started right away."

"For better or worse, Stu, we seem to have taken on this project. Now the question becomes, is it going to be for better or worse?"

Stu looked up from the papers in his hands. "Better if we never have to listen to The Crows again, worse if we do."

"I can't believe that Arthur thinks they're . . . how did he put it? Just fabulous."

"It's easier to convince yourself of something absurd when you've got a lot of money invested in it."

Jeff nodded slightly. "I suppose you're right. But my God, they're . . . awful."

"I'm not sure if awful is the right word, but I can't think of anything worse." Stu closed the folder he'd been perusing. "Still, it's not up to us to judge them – just protect them."

"I suppose we have to, don't we?"

"To the best of our ability, Jeff. Whatever that means in this case."

XXXXXXXX

"They took the job, Roger." Arthur was eating a late lunch in his office.

"Hard to walk away when someone sits ten thousand dollars in front of you, Arthur."

"Still . . . there was some doubt. I'm glad that's settled."

"Until you tell them about . . . "

Arthur set down his fork. The rest of his salad could wait a minute. "Then I won't tell them."

"But what if . . . "

"Roger, you are a worrywart. If Bailey and Spencer are protecting The Crows, nothing can go wrong."

XXXXXXXX

The first two weeks after the meeting were routine. Stu, Jeff and Kookie, when he could, checked each and every employee that KleinCo. had given them. There were several contentious divorces, a public nuisance case, one illegal immigrant, two child-custody fights, one property lien and one wage garnishment for back taxes, even an arrest for petty theft. Nothing out of the ordinary. As a matter of fact, far fewer issues than either Stu or Jeff expected.

During the third week the real work began. Setting up positions for those employees serving as temporary security guards and providing them with training. Making sure that all backstage entrances and exits to the dressing rooms, sound stages and restricted areas were locked and secure. Finally, and most difficult of all, interviewing each and every member of the band, getting to know their likes and dislikes, their wives and groupies, their idiosyncrasies and peculiarities. Kookie, of course, was in heaven, being so close to, as he put it, 'just the ginchiest, dads.' The partners were beginning to think that twenty-thousand dollars was not enough to make them listen to the band ever again.

But listen they did. There was always a rehearsal going on, and slowly things improved. The Crows sound did get better; now it just reminded one of an animal in pain. Arthur insisted they get cleaned up, and that they did. He even bought them new clothes and had a hairstylist attempt to do something with what they called hair.

It was less than a week before the concert when Jeff heard the first rumor. He was grabbing a quick bite in the cafeteria and was dressed casually so that he was indistinguishable from the other employees. Two of the soundcheck men were talking at the table next to him.

"Well, almost time for the concert and all this will all be over."

"What do you mean it'll all be over?" asked the second man.

"Haven't you heard the rumors?" came from the first man.

"I guess not. What rumors are you talking about?"

"The rumors about the religious cult that threatened Arthur if he insisted . . . I'd rather tell you on the ride home." The first man grew silent, refusing to say any more. They soon left, before anyone could ask questions. But Jeff had heard enough.

"Have you heard any rumors?" Jeff asked on the ride home.

"About what?" Stu retorted.

"Anything about a religious cult?"

Stu pulled over and stopped the car. "A religious cult? I think you better tell me the whole story."

So Jeff relayed the whole story while they sat on the side of the road. When he was finished Stu shook his head. "I haven't heard anything like that at all. I think we better have a talk with Arthur tomorrow."

"I'm . . . taking Molly out tonight. Thought I'd see what Arthur's right-hand knows."

Stu chuckled softly. "You sly dog. Let me know if you find out anything interesting. Maybe I should make that if you find out anything."

"Are you doing anything tonight?"

"As a matter of fact, I am. I'm taking Gail to dinner at Dino's."

Jeff almost held his breath. Gail was a brunette, and she had already joined Stu for dinner one night this week. Maybe the Nina spell was beginning to break. If so, it was about time.

"Shall we meet in the office after dinner?"

"No, Jeff. No. We'll talk in the morning."

Stu pulled back out on the road and headed for home. He was thinking about this religious cult nonsense. Jeff, meanwhile, was thinking about Stu and Gail and hoping . . .


	6. Chapter 6

Stone the Crows

Chapter 6

Stu was in the office first, and he'd already sent Suzanne over for coffee. Jeff had arrived moments before the coffee did, and he looked like he needed it. "Late night?" Bailey questioned his partner.

"Yes," was the only reply Jeff gave.

"Are you ready to go to the bowl?"

"No," the perfunctory answer given this time.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Stuart tried a different tactic.

"Eventually."

"I'll be in my office when you're ready."

It was a good fifteen minutes before Jeff knocked. "Sorry, I've been up all night." Kookie had brought more coffee over, and Jeff was halfway through his second cup. Stuart passed his off to Suzanne.

"I take it the evening went well."

"I would say so. We talked all night and watched the sunrise over the Malibu Hills. She's quite a girl."

"I assume she wouldn't talk about Arthur." That was a given if she was as good a 'right-hand man' as Arthur proclaimed.

"Of course not. Arthur was the forbidden subject. Still, I found out enough to make me want to know more."

"About the religious group?"

Jeff started to nod and discovered it was too early to do that. "All she knows is a religious cult calling themselves Morals for America has been harassing the entire staff. They call constantly and insist on speaking to someone. That's all she was willing to tell me, but it's enough to get started with. We've just got to be careful how we go about this."

"I agree. I think we better sit on this for at least a day before we confront Arthur. Meantime let's see what else we can dig up from the employees." Stu had a certain technician in mind. They'd spoken to each other several times about the logistics of the equipment and the man seemed friendly.

"I wonder if the band knows anything? The drummer's a rather chatty guy, given the right circumstances."

"Well, I think we better get going. We don't want to show up too late." Stu thought about Jeff's all-night endeavor and asked, "Do you want me to drive?"

"I wish you would. I'm liable to fall asleep on you." Jeff started to close his eyes and then remembered something. "Molly did tell me she'd heard yelling coming from Arthur's office when Roger was in there. And that Roger had been prickly and difficult to be around. She wouldn't explain what she meant by prickly, but she did say it was unusual for him. Maybe when we meet with Mr. Bryzinski we can find out more."

"Hmm. I noticed a little tension between the two men. It's something to keep in mind."

They were still working with the band in the morning and had a meeting scheduled with Roger at two o'clock. Fortunately for Jeff, there was no rehearsal today, and he saw an opportunity to question the drummer, Brody Styles.

"Hey Brody, how about some lunch?"

"Yeah, man, as long as it's liquid. I need to get me some space from all this work, you know?"

The last thing Jeff wanted was a liquid lunch, but he'd do whatever he had to. "How about that seafood place I saw right down the road? They've got a bar, right?"

"Sounds good to me, man. You drive?"

"Sure," Jeff responded.

It took longer to get to the car than to drive to the seafood restaurant. They served lunch at the bar, and Jeff ordered clam chowder and a salad. Brody had a tequila shot. By the time lunch was over Brody was in a talkative mood, and Jeff took full advantage. "You okay to get to the car?"

"Yeah, man."

Jeff hadn't asked if Brody could get there on his own two legs, and the drummer needed some assistance. Jeff was amazed that someone could drink that much in such a short period and almost said something as he helped Brody into the car. Instead he started a casual conversation about Morals for America. "I hear that the band has been threatened by Morals for America. Know anything about the group?"

"Naw, man, they don't want us to perform at the Bowl. Some say they threatened – don't you guys know all about this?"

"The details that we got were a little sketchy. I thought maybe you could fill in the blanks."

"Some religious cult group. Don't like our look . . . or our sound, or somethin'. Gonna lead the youth astray. Ha! More likely they'll lead us astray."

Before Jeff could ask another question, Brody was asleep. They were quickly back at the Bowl parking lot and Jeff found a space not too far from the entrance. Brody was sound asleep and there was no waking him, so Jeff picked him up and carried him over his shoulder. Once he got the drummer in the building four or five men rushed to help. "Does he do this often?"

"Too often," one of the band's assistants told him.

Jeff headed for Roger's office and met Stu halfway there. "Did you find out any more?"

Stu nodded. "Yes, but let's discuss it on the way home tonight."

"Fine with me. Let's see if we can get out of here after the meeting with Roger."

Roger's office was considerably different from Arthur's. First of all it was about half the size. Standard office desk, no bar, no expensive paintings on the wall. One thing he did have, however, was the custom stereo system. 'I'm afraid I can't offer you the libations that Arthur can. About the best I can do is the cola machine out in the hall. I'll buy if you're interested."

"No, thank you."

"Thanks, but no, Roger." Stu stood and walked around the room. "It seems odd not to have a window to look out of. What do you do, Roger, when you're bored and need a distraction?"

Roger chuckled. "I don't get bored, Stu. We're coming awfully close to C-Day. How are things going?"

"Better than we expected." Jeff answered that one. "Actually they're running pretty smoothly."

"All except for one pesky little thing." Stu looked at Jeff, who nodded his head. It was the perfect opening.

"Oh, and what is that?" Roger walked right into it.

"Tell us about Morals for America."


	7. Chapter 7

Stone the Crows

Chapter 7

Stu and Jeff agreed, when they discussed it later, that Roger was smooth. He didn't blink when Stu asked about Morals for America. He simply looked them both in the eyes and asked, "Morals for America? What's that?"

"That's the pesky little thing we haven't been told about," Stu replied.

"In case you haven't heard about them, there's gossip all over the place," Jeff added.

Roger got up and left without saying a word, leaving the two private investigators sitting in front of his desk. "Do you think it was something we said?" Stu asked.

They sat for almost five minutes before Roger returned. "You'll have to speak to Arthur about that, and he's gone for the day. That's where I went, to check and see if he was in. Let's call an end to this meeting, and you can talk to Arthur tomorrow."

Molly opened Roger's door and escorted the partners out into the hallway. "I think we were just dismissed," came from Jeff.

"He wants you to see Arthur, and Arthur's gone." Molly looked upset.

"That's what you couldn't tell me last night."

Molly nodded. "And I still can't."

"I know. We'll see Arthur in the morning." Jeff smiled at her, doing his best to assure her that he understood.

"Mr. Spencer, I think we should call it a day."

"Mr. Bailey, I agree with you."

XXXXXXXX

They discussed what they knew about Morals For America on the way home and came to the conclusion there was more there than met the eye. If they were just another fanatical religious cult there wouldn't be such a wall of secrecy around them. Everyone seemed to know just enough to gossip about them but nothing more.

"They want something. I'm willing to bet on that; but finding out just what it is could be a problem," Stu concluded.

"Did you get anywhere with the technician you were going to talk to?"

"He wasn't in today. Whether on purpose or by accident, who knows."

"Sounds like we're just going to have to wait and talk to Arthur." Jeff didn't like waiting until tomorrow, but there was no other way.

When they got back to the office, Stu stopped Kookie. "Have you heard anything about a group named Morals for America?"

"Yeah, dad, those are crazy dudes. Stay away from them. They picketed a concert a couple of weeks ago and put two of the band in the hospital."

"What are they, a cult? What's their purpose? What do they want? Where are they from? Where do they meet?" Once Stu got going he was hard to stop.

"Whoa, dad, slow down. I'm not the person to be giving the third degree to. Call your friend, the fuzz man."

"You mean Lt. Gilmore?"

"Yeah, dad, the fuzz man."

Stu and Jeff walked in together. "Why didn't we think of that?" Jeff asked.

"I think we were too busy playing private detective."

XXXXXXXX

Stu got on the phone after he picked up the messages that Suzanne had left for him. He looked them over while he was waiting for Gil to get to his phone. Nothing that couldn't wait another day or two. They were back in the office on Friday."Hello, Gil? This is Stu Bailey. What do you know about a group called Morals for America? Uh-huh. Uh-huh. Can we come over now? Alright, we'll be there shortly."

He went to Jeff's office. "Don't get comfy. Lt. Gilmore wants us to come over."

"Now?" was asked with a moan.

"Right now, Jefferson."

Back outside they went, and Kookie looked at them, laughing. Their car was right up front. "See, I knew the fuzz man would want to see you. You be careful now, you hear."

Gil looked the same as he always looked – like he needed twenty-four hours sleep. In all probability, he did. Stu and Jeff sat down; they had the feeling this was going to be a long session with the Lieutenant. They were right.

Armed with what he told them, they were ready to have a long talk with Arthur Klein tomorrow.

XXXXXXXX

As soon as Molly told Roger that the P.I.'s were out of the building, he picked up his phone and placed a call to Arthur. "Alright, they're gone now, you can come back to the office. No, I didn't tell them anything. I told them they'd have to talk to you. Yes, I expect they will be in early tomorrow. No, you can delay it but the questions you don't want to answer will be inevitable. I told you, this would all be solved if you'd told them in the first place. I'm not going to argue semantics with you, Arthur. You hired them to do a job and by not telling them what the Morals for America group wants, you've set them up for failure. And having gotten to know Bailey and Spencer, I don't imagine either one will be pleased with you. Yes, Arthur. Yes, Arthur. No, I will not do that. If you don't tell them in the morning, I will. And when I'm done telling them everything, you can have my resignation. I most certainly am serious. Goodbye, Arthur."

Molly had been standing in his office door. "You would really quit? Just like that?"

Roger nodded. "If he forces my hand, yes I will. I told him from the very beginning to be honest and upfront, that Bailey and Spencer were bound to hear rumors and that would only make things worse. He chose to ignore my pleas, so if I have to do the telling tomorrow he can find a new whipping boy. I don't care how brilliant Arthur Klein is, this deception and the grief it could cause isn't worth what I'm paid to be his lackey. And if you're as smart as I think you are, you'll quit, too."

Molly answered him quietly, much quieter than Roger's rant had been. "I could never do that, Roger. He's been too good to me."

"Well, good luck then, dear Molly. If I go you're next in line to be abused by the man you say has been good to you."

Molly hurried out of the office, having heard more than enough of Roger's ranting and raving. Something was amiss, that was certain. Roger had never been a complainer before Arthur got involved with The Crows, but he'd been like a different person since then. If she had to listen to him rave about everyone's taste being flushed down the toilet one more time, she thought she'd scream. Maybe she should fill Jeff or Stu in on what seemed almost like a change in personality. Oh well, maybe she was imagining things.

Molly pulled the door to Roger's office closed behind her. "Goodnight, Roger."

"Goodnight, Molly," he called to an empty room.


	8. Chapter 8

Stone the Crows

Chapter 8

Arthur Klein was in his office before anyone got in at the Bowl the next morning. He'd heard everything Roger said last night and had taken it all to heart. Perhaps he had been stubborn and narrow-minded when he refused not only to ignore Roger's warnings, but to keep the very men he'd hired to protect them all in the dark about the threats. Morals for America, whoever they were, were insistent, intimidating, and more than a little frightening.

When Molly arrived he asked her to let him know when Roger was there. It wasn't long before he heard her voice again. "Mr. Klein, Roger just arrived."

"Molly, have I done something to offend you?" he asked her.

"No, sir."

"Then what's with the 'Mr. Klein' this morning?"

"Sorry, sir, old habits."

Arthur got up from behind the magnificent desk and walked over to Roger's office. The door was open but he knocked anyway. "Roger, may I come in?"

Bryzinski looked up, startled by Arthur's knock. "Why yes, of course."

Normally Arthur would have sat down, but this was no normal visit. This was what he would call a 'mea culpa' visit. "Roger, I've been unfair to you, and downright pig-headed. You're absolutely right, I should have told Bailey and Spencer what we were dealing with from the very beginning, and I am truly sorry that I didn't listen to you. Would you forgive an old man who's been listening to too many of the gossips in Hollywood who keep telling me what a genius I am?"

Roger had gone home last night and talked a long time about many subjects with his wife, who pointed out that he was rather stubborn himself. After mulling it over for a bit he had to admit that she was right, and he regretted the things he'd said to Molly. While he still planned to tell the truth this morning if Arthur didn't, he no longer intended to quit. That threat had been not much more than foolish pride. "You're not old, Arthur."

"Does that mean I am a genius?" Arthur asked, laughing.

"Well . . . and you're forgiven. I'm glad that you're finally going to tell Stu and Jeff the truth."

"The truth about Morals for America?" Stu asked, standing in the doorway. "Never leave your door open, Roger. It gets you in all kinds of trouble."

"Stu, where's your partner?"

"Down . . . I'll never get used to saying 'up' in the Cafeteria."

"Come to my office, would you please?"

Stu obediently followed Arthur down the hall and into his office. Almost immediately Arthur said, "Molly, can you bring three large coffees in here, please? And leave room in them. You know what I mean."

It was a good five minutes before Molly appeared with the coffees, and she brought Jeff with her. "Fix them the way I like it." By the time she brought the coffee over, Jeff was seated. "Gentlemen, I suggest you drink the coffee the way Molly fixed it. You're going to need it."

Molly, of course, had not used as much brandy in Stu and Jeff's coffees as she had in Arthur's. Both could smell the liquor; it crossed their minds that it was too early for this. They drank theirs anyway.

"First of all, gentlemen, I wish to apologize for having withheld what I am about to tell you. Roger has been pushing me from the first to be honest with you, and I resisted his suggestion. Last night he insisted I tell you or he would, and he was right. I should have given you the whole truth all along.

"About three weeks before you agreed to take the job, we started getting phone calls from a group that called themselves Morals for America. When I say we that is no exaggeration. Roger, Molly, and every single supervisor here got them. After several days of this, they began to concentrate their efforts on me. When the two of you arrived the phone calls stopped and were replaced with letters. One comes every day and demands the same thing. Molly, another coffee for me, please. Would either of you like another?" Pause, while both Bailey and Spencer shook their heads. "Just me, Molly."

"What is it they demand, Arthur?" Stu asked.

"Oh, nothing big. Just that we cancel the concert and disband the group."

Stu and Jeff had the exact same thought. Would either of those be so bad? It wasn't their call to make, and neither was going to try. "And have they suggested any consequences if you don't comply?" Jeff wondered.

"That's just it. They haven't even hinted at what they'll do if the concert goes on as planned. Personally, I'm inclined to believe nothing will happen, that they're just blowing smoke. Maybe that's why I ignored Roger when he insisted I tell you. Please tell me that you won't walk out on me now that you know what's really going on."

The partners exchanged looks, and finally Jeff nodded. "No, Arthur, we won't quit. We agreed to do a job for you, and we'll see it through to the end. But this changes things, and we've got a lot of work to do in order to be ready for most anything. It would have been easier if you'd told us from the beginning. Come on Jeff, let's see what we can do about this."

Bailey and Spencer left Arthur's office, and he sat there quietly for almost ten minutes. It had been sheer foolishness on his part to keep the private eyes in the dark about Morals for America, even if he did think the group was making idle threats. Well, he'd finally come clean and there didn't have to be any more whispers and lies. It was their problem now.

XXXXXXXX

Jeff and Stu went straight to the cafeteria for more coffee – real coffee, not Arthur's mixture. The room was empty save for the two of them, and they had more than a little bit of planning to do. The threats were real according to what Gil had told them the night before, and there was every indication that MFA was planning something big when KleinCo. didn't comply with their demands.

"Any ideas on where we start?" Jeff asked his partner.

"No, but give me a minute. I started thinking about this after we saw Gil last night but at the moment I don't have anything . . . "

"Understood. Having Arthur lay it out like that kind of brought me up short."

Stu laughed. It was the last time he'd laugh for a while. "Was it that or his coffee?"

The click of high heels on the cafeteria floor made them both turn around abruptly. It was Molly, and she had an armful of notebooks and blueprints. Jeff jumped up to help her. "It's all your diagrams and plans. Thought you might need them, and this is a good place to work until about eleven-thirty. Let me know if you need anything else." As soon as she relinquished the papers to Jeff she turned and 'click-click-clicked' her way out of the room.

"Well, I guess we better get started, Jefferson," Stu remarked.

"Might as well, Stuart."


	9. Chapter 9

Stone the Crows

Chapter 9

"This is the last letter we're sending," Shep told Marie that afternoon. "We better make sure we're all set for the concert because it's painfully obvious they're not going to meet any of our demands."

"I just talked to the Holy One. He insists that all preparations have been made for that eventuality."

"I hope so. You know what happened in Denver. I don't want that to happen again."

Marie looked unhappy at first, but shook it off. "Look, I miss Simon just as much as you do, but it was simple, really. Allow one to be captured or we all would have been arrested."

Shep stopped what he was typing and looked up. "I know you're right, but if it had been planned correctly we wouldn't have had to sacrifice anybody, particularly Simon."

"The Holy One insists that won't be the outcome of this incident."

"Even with Bailey and Spencer running the show?"

Marie smiled. "They'll be taken care of. No need for you to worry."

"I hope you're right."

The Holy One had promised her no violence when it came to the private investigators, but she wondered if he really meant it. He was determined that this demonstration would go according to plan, and she was afraid of what might happen if they got in the way. Or if, God forbid, there was a foul-up of some kind.

XXXXXXXX

It was almost seven o'clock that evening before Stu and Jeff were done with the re-planning for the concert. They'd doubled security on all the exits and drafted more employees as guards; and they talked to Gil about having policemen there for the concert. They'd moved more than a dozen men out of their original positions and re-placed them. They drew up a whole new set of blueprints and got copies made for everyone involved. Finally Stu looked at his watch. "It's a quarter of seven, partner. What do you say we call it a day and head for Dino's? My throats dry as the Mojave."

"I guess. I don't think there's much more we can do, anyway."

"I bet it's easy to find the car now," Stu smirked as he said it.

They walked outside and found that Stuart was right. "How long have we been here anyway?"

"Since about nineteen fifty-five. The year, I mean."

"My turn to drive?" Jeff asked.

"Yes. Wake me when we get to the office. I'll be the one snoring."

"Alright, get in," Jeff directed.

It was quiet in the car on the way home. While Stu didn't fall asleep as he intimated, he wasn't talkative, either. Once back at the office, the partners exited the car quickly and turned the vehicle over to Kookie. Stu headed for Dino's, and after a short discussion with Kookie, Jeff followed. By the time he got inside Stu was already at the bar with a drink in his hands. "Didn't know what you wanted so I didn't order anything."

"What are you drinking?"

"Scotch."

"I'll have the same," Jeff told Jimmy, behind the bar. "Did we do enough?"

"We did the best we could. Did we do enough to prevent what could be a disaster? Who knows."

They sat in silence for a few minutes and let the scotch do the talking. "Stu, what do you think the MFA will do when Klein refuses to cancel the concert?"

"Could be anything. Gil thought they were becoming violent, and you heard his explanations for believing that way. That's why we thought it was a good idea to have armed officers present, and thank God Gil agreed with us. As to what they might be capable of, I have no way of knowing, since we don't know who's involved in this cult."

Jeff pressed on. "And if Arthur doesn't disband the band?"

"Could be anything. Again, that goes back to who's in the cult. We've still got a couple days, let's see what we can find out about the leader called The Holy One." Stu looked at his glass, which was empty. "Jimmy, let's have another."

"Yes, sir, Mr. Bailey. How about you, Mr. Spencer?"

"Why not? Do you think Molly knows anything beyond what's she's told us?"

Stu shrugged. "You spent a night with her, did she say anything to make you think that?"

"Not really. We talked about everything but Arthur and the Morals for America, which we hadn't learned about yet. The only thing out of the ordinary we talked about was Roger Bryzinski. She said he'd become particularly difficult of late, arguing behind closed doors with Arthur. I can take another run at her and see if she tells me anything else, but I don't hold out much hope."

"Anything you need to do at the office? I'm going over there."

"No, but I haven't got anything going. I'll go back to the office with you."

They finished their drinks and left together. Kookie was parking a car but he waved at them. As soon as they got inside it was obvious someone had been there. Suzanne's area was a mess, with everything turned upside down and on the floor. Both men were immediately on alert, but they hadn't gone to KleinCo. armed and had no weapons with them. Their office doors were open and they could both see papers dumped everywhere, chairs turned upside down, and drawers open. There was no one in Stu's office, but Jeff could hear someone moving around in his. The door between the offices was closed. Stu pulled his gun out of his locked cabinet and tiptoed around the corner. Jeff walked into his office and got a good look at the man – boy, actually – rifling through his filing cabinets. His back was turned to Bailey and Spencer and Jeff's question made him jump. "Looking for anything in particular?"

The burglar turned around and Jeff was startled by how accurately his assumption that this was a boy not yet fully grown was. Tall and gangly, he wore a crew cut and glasses and didn't look like he was old enough to shave. He yelled something that they both heard like "Morals for America is the only way!" and ran at the two P.I.s. He was surprisingly quick and knocked both of them aside as he barreled through the doorway. By the time Stu got a shot off he was gone. They chased after him but saw no trace when they got outside. Kookie was parking another car and hadn't seen the boy run by.

"Well, I know what we're doing tonight," Stu told his partner. As they went back inside the boy hiding in the recessed doorway three doors up the street looked at the rolled-up paper in his hands. It was exactly what he'd been looking for.


	10. Chapter 10

Stone the Crows

Chapter 10

As soon as he heard the outside door to 77 Sunset Strip close, Donny took off up the street running. Two blocks away Marie sat behind the wheel of her car with the engine running and waited for him. He was out of breath when he climbed in the front seat next to her. "Well, did you get it?"

"I did," and he handed her the paper he'd stolen from Jeff's filing cabinet.

"Did you have any trouble?"

"Some. I'd just discovered what we wanted when the two of them came back to the offices. But I got past them and got out the door."

"And nobody saw you?"

"Well . . ." Donny hesitated. "Spencer got a better look at me than Bailey did. Nobody else."

"What about the carhop?" Marie asked as she handed the paper back while she was driving.

"No."

Marie was pleased, given the person they'd sent to do the snooping. After they lost Simon they couldn't take a chance with someone important. Marie pulled over to the side of the road and waited for traffic to go past before turning on the interior light and holding out her hands. "Let me see it." Donny handed it over and waited. Marie scrutinized it closely until she was satisfied it was the real thing. She had to hand it to him, he'd surprised her with his success. "Well done, Donny."

Donny was filled with a sense of pride and accomplishment. He wanted to be useful to the group, and he hoped he would be thought of that way since he'd delivered on his very first task. Now maybe they'd allow him to participate in what they had planned for Arthur Klein's concert. "Marie, do you think . . ."

"No, Donny. You can't go to the Amphitheater with us."

"But, Marie . . ."

"No. You don't have enough experience yet. Just wait, your time will come."

XXXXXXXX

Stu was in the office early, trying to catch up on all the paperwork that he'd missed by spending so much time at the Bowl. Jeff came in about thirty minutes later and brought two cups of coffee with him. As was his custom when they were both in early, he sat in Stu's office while they smoked and drank what he'd brought over from Dino's. "Not as strong as yesterday's, is it?" he asked.

"No, thank God. I couldn't take that every morning, and I'm sure you couldn't, either. Get to talk to Molly last night?"

Jeff shook his head and a look of mild annoyance settled in on his countenance. "No, and I called three times."

"She probably couldn't have told you anything new, anyway. I think we should skip taking today off and catch up on what's here in the office before we head over to the Bowl this afternoon. Does that work for you?"

"Sure, why not? I'll feel better getting a last look at the setup before concert day."

Stu agreed with Jeff about a final look before the day of the concert, but he had more on his mind than that. The scene they'd walked in on last night was bothering him; the kid that was burglarizing their offices was so young, a mere child by Stuart Bailey standards. And he'd spent all night racking his brain to try and figure out what the boy was looking for. He had what appeared to be a single piece of paper rolled up in his hand, and it was driving Stu crazy not knowing what had been stolen. He called Gil at 3 a.m., knowing that the police Lieutenant would be awake and at work.

As usual, Gil was there. Stu's mind strayed for a moment, wondering if Gil lived at the police station since he seemed to be there day and night. They spent almost thirty minutes talking about Morals for America, and who the Holy One could be. And just what the group's actual agenda was. They'd disrupted a convention in Las Vegas, the opening of an auto plant in Detroit, and a Fourth of July celebration in Denver. Something had gone wrong with their plans in Denver, and there were two policemen dead. In turn, the police had captured a cult member, and all they knew after a month of interrogation was that his name was Simon.

There had been a lot of small demonstrations around the country, but Las Vegas, Detroit and Denver were the three big ones. The fatalities in the mile-high city were the first, but the protests were becoming increasingly violent. And then there was the shroud of mystery surrounding the identity of the Holy One. To Gil's knowledge, no one had ever seen him, and Simon wasn't talking. And after last night, the thought crossed both Gil and Stu's minds that he could be anything from a teenager on up.

"I don't think it's a kid, Stu. The demonstrations are too well planned, too complicated for a kid to be behind them."

"What exactly went wrong in Denver?"

"The governor sent state troopers in at the last minute, and there was gunfire that wasn't from a police source. The fireworks were starting and most people thought that's what the gunshots were. When they found out it was real gunfire there was panic and chaos, trying to get away. When it was all over there were two officers down and dozens of injuries."

"And you haven't been able to get anything from Simon? Not even a last name?"

"No last name. The only reason we've got 'Simon' is that somebody called him that and he answered."

"Does he have a lawyer?" Stu asked.

"No, no lawyer. He did have a visitor last week, though, and she signed in as 'Mary Smith.' Real inventive name. No home address, just a P.O. Box. And yes, we already checked. The box belongs to John Smith. Try that one on for size. Same P.O. Box. We've got an undercover at the post office, keeping an eye on the box, but so far, nothing."

There was silence for a moment, while Stu pondered the next question he had for Gil. "How many officers can you spare us?"

There was a short laugh on the other end of the phone. "Truthfully? None. But I'm sending over ten. Try to send all ten back to me in one piece, would you?"

"We'll do our best, Gil. With our guns added into the mix, that's an even dozen armed men." Momentary silence. "I wish I could say this was a wild goose chase, but I'm afraid it's not. Are you going to have them there prior to the concert, or right at eight o'clock?"

"They've been instructed to be there at seven-thirty. That gives you thirty minutes, Stu, so better move fast."

"Thanks, Gil. Go on back to that desk drawer you sleep in, now. Here's hoping I don't see you after the concert."

"Good luck, Stu. Goodnight."

"Goodnight, Lieutenant."


	11. Chapter 11

Stone the Crows

Chapter 11

Stu Bailey knew it was time to tell his partner what he'd discussed with Lieutenant Gilmore last night. Or rather this morning. "The good news is he's sending us ten officers, so that makes a dozen armed men. We ought to be able to cover the Amphitheater with a dozen."

"As long as we can keep Arthur, Molly and Roger together in one place. They have to understand they can't pace around or wander off from the group. We don't have the men to cover them." Jeff looked as skeptical as he felt.

"Can't we use Kookie as their 'bodyguard'? They don't need to know he doesn't carry a gun." Stu was hoping this arrangement would suffice; there'd be a man with a weapon close by.

"I don't think so, Stu," Jeff replied. "I think one of us should be with them at all times. We can put Kookie someplace else."

"Where?" Stu wanted to know. "It has to be somewhere where he's safe. Go get the placement diagram and let's see if we can find the right spot for him."

Jeff sighed, set his coffee down on Stu's desk, and went to get the blueprint out of his filing cabinet. He was gone five, ten, fifteen minutes when Stu got up from his desk and went to the open door that separated the offices. Jeff was hunched over the filing cabinet, methodically pulling out folders and searching in each one. "Lost something?"

"Yes, as a matter of fact. The blueprint's not here. I've looked in every folder and I can't find it."

Both men had the same thought hit them at the same moment – the kid last night. He had one piece of paper in his hand; it had to be the diagram. "Let's go over to the Amphitheater. The original blueprint is there. If that's what the kid took, and it looks like it is, we've got to change everything."

"Let me get my coffee and we can leave now." Jeff ducked back into Stu's office and picked up what was left of his coffee. "Okay, ready."

Kookie pulled out Stu's car for them, and as soon as Bailey got behind the wheel, they were off. This time of the morning it only took a few minutes to get there. As soon as they were inside they went straight down to Molly's desk, right outside Arthur Klein's door. Fortunately, she was already there, sitting quietly at her desk drinking coffee. "What are you two doing here?" she asked, startled to see the two P.I.s. They were supposed to be off that day.

"Molly, please tell me you still have the original blueprint for the placement of the guards," Jeff begged.

"Of course I have it. Why?"

"We had a break-in last night and he only took one thing – our copy of the blueprint," Stu explained.

"Good thing I kept the original, Mr. Bailey." Molly unlocked her desk and went straight to the diagram. "Remember to give that back when you're done."

"Can't do that, Molly. We have to change everything. We'll give you a new one later." Jeff was quick with an answer. He and Stu had a lot of work to do.

"You can use Roger's office. He did take today off. And how about some fresh coffee for those poor, empty cups?"

"Just coffee?" Stu asked.

"Just coffee."

"Sounds good, Molly. Thanks."

For the next several hours they worked at amending the original positions they'd chosen for everyone. Then they had to decide where to place the ten officers that Gil was sending. It was almost four o'clock when they finished. They'd worked through lunch, subsisting solely on coffee, and when they were finally done they were starving. "Why don't you see if we can take Molly to dinner? As a thank you for all the help she's given us?" Stu asked as they were preparing to leave.

"Great idea," Jeff said. It was a thoughtful gesture, and when he asked Molly, she accepted.

Stu drove to Dino's, and as everybody piled out he turned the car over to Kookie. It was easy to find Jeff and Molly, and the first thing they did was order drinks. "Vodka Gimlet's for us, Manny, and the lady will have . . . "

"Jack. On the rocks."

"Serious drinking?" Jeff asked her.

"Yes, I'd call it that," she replied, but added a smile to go with the whiskey. "This has been such a stressful set of preparations. Morals for America, Arthur not telling you about them and their threats, Roger crying on my shoulder, and everything adding up to you two having to do the planning twice. And now we have armed police in the Amphitheater. I never want to have another one like this."

"Molly, what was that about MFA threats?"

"Just that they'd do something we wouldn't like if the concert wasn't canceled. That was on the last two letters."

Stu took a sip of his gimlet before speaking. "Arthur never mentioned a threat."

"Probably because it was nothing specific. Just some vague sounding nothing." Molly picked up her Jack Daniels and took a drink of it. "That's just what I needed. Now, what's good on the menu?"

She got recommendations from both Stu and Jeff, then found something on the menu she liked the sound of and ordered it. The meal proceeded smoothly; Molly had a second Jack on the rocks. "Arthur can drink tomorrow. I can't. I need my head clear for whatever we have to face."

Jeff volunteered to take Molly home; Stu had some paperwork he wanted to get finished. By the time he got done it was almost midnight, and he was bone-tired. When he walked outside to get his car Kookie looked at him and shook his head. "You look beat, dad. Better get some sleep tonight so you're alive tomorrow. You going from here?"

Stu nodded. He was almost too tired to speak. "Yes. Be here by six o'clock, you can ride up with me."

"Are you gonna get home alright? You look like you're about to fall asleep. I can drive you."

"No, Kookie. I'm fine. I'll see you tomorrow."

About halfway home Stu almost nodded off, but he caught himself before anything actually happened. He dragged himself into his apartment, took off his sport coat, his tie and his shoes, and practically fell on the couch. That was as far as he made it. He was asleep immediately and he never moved until the next morning.


	12. Chapter 12

Stone the Crows

Chapter 12

The concert wasn't scheduled to start until 8 p.m. but most everyone was at the Amphitheater by noon. Jeff and Stu went over the new placement assignments and it all seemed clear to everyone. Then the partners explained the policemen that would be in place, and what an employee should do if they thought there was something unusual going on, or if someone was where they shouldn't be. The sound crew installed everything in its proper place and The Crows rehearsed one last time, this time on the Amphitheater stage.

"They don't sound a whole lot better than they did the first time we heard them," Stu remarked to Jeff.

"That's the way they're supposed to sound," Jeff answered.

"Oh. That's a shame."

Arthur held a final meeting in his office, with Stu, Jeff, Roger, Molly, and all the department supervisors. "A lot is riding on this concert, everyone, and I want you to know what your people are supposed to be doing at all times. We may not have any trouble at all, but we can't take the chance. Remember, if you have a problem go to Stu or Jeff, or one of the uniformed officers stationed throughout the theatre. Molly, have The Crows done their final run-through?"

"Yes, sir, they have."

"Good. Remember, the cafeteria will be open until 5 o'clock, and there's a buffet there after the concert. Thanks, everyone, for your hard work and let's make sure this is the best concert ever."

Molly stopped Stu and Jeff from leaving. "Arthur would like the two of you to join him in his private dining room."

"Are you going to be there, Molly?" Jeff asked.

"No, I'm going to the cafeteria."

"Then would you please tell Arthur we think we should eat with the hired help in the cafeteria. Only please word it nicer than that." Jeff was unhappy that Arthur excluded Molly from his invitation.

"I will inform Mr. Klein of your decision," Molly answered with a grin. She was back in just a few minutes. "Mr. Klein says he is sad about your decision to eat with everyone else, but he understands it." She giggled again. "I don't think anyone's ever turned him down before."

"Now's not the time to be locked away in a private dining room. We need to be where we can hear what everyone is talking about, just in case," Stu explained.

But there was nothing discussed that they hadn't already heard.

Meanwhile, over at Morals for America headquarters, plans were also being finalized for that night. "Alright, everybody listen up. We're gonna go over where everybody's gotta be tonight. And for those of you that are disappointed that you didn't get the assignment you were hoping for, remember that every single role is important. We couldn't do this without each and every one of you. Sally, you're in charge of the outside picketers. Remember not to start until five minutes before eight. We need the outside personnel distracted when the concert begins.

"Jason, you've got the inside picketers. You start when the music starts. This will help to distract the inside personnel. Mark, you've got the audience members without weapons. Shep, you've got the rest of the audience plants. And my group rushes the stage. Everybody clear on that? Remember, we need to get our hands on at least one band member, if not more. Anyone that's arrested, give them your first name and nothing else. We'll have lawyers at the Hollywood precinct first thing tomorrow morning." Marie was sure there'd be questions.

"What about Bailey and Spencer?" someone called from the back.

"Do whatever you want to them. They've been nothing but trouble from the start. Anybody else? No? Good, then we're ready to go. We start loading the cars and vans at 6:45. If you're not where you're supposed to be by 7 o'clock, we leave without you. Good luck, everyone. Let's really make this one count."

XXXXXXXX

When they were finished eating, Stu and Jeff went to change clothes. They were wearing the same uniform everybody else wore – navy slacks, white polo shirt neatly tucked in, and a navy windbreaker. The only difference was their windbreakers served to hide their shoulder holsters. Even the police officers were wearing blue uniforms with blue windbreakers. The only difference was theirs said 'POLICE' across the back.

"You ready for tonight?" Jeff asked his partner.

"Yes and no."

"What' the yes and what's the no?" an intrigued Jeff asked.

"Yes I'm ready for it to be over, and no I don't have a good feeling about the concert."

"Look, Stu, we've done everything we could do to make sure we have a positive outcome. All we can do now is wait. I'm sure everything will be fine."

"I hope that you're right, Jeff." Stu paused for a moment, remembering something. "Listen, I promised Kookie a ride. I'm going back to the office and check everything over and pick him up. Alright with you?"

"Sure, go ahead. We've got plenty of time. I'll see if there's anything I can do to . . . help Molly."

Stu headed for the office, hoping there was nothing of any importance waiting. He was pleased to discover there wasn't. Roscoe was left babysitting and Kookie was ready and waiting. In no time the P.I. and the carhop were back at the Amphitheater. Kookie went to change clothes, much as Stu and Jeff had done earlier. When he was in 'uniform' Spencer took him to his assigned spot and explained everything he had missed today.

As seven o'clock approached there was a nervous energy in the air. The audience had begun finding their seats and they felt it, too. Everyone started taking their places; Jeff was assigned to protect Arthur, Roger and Molly, and at the moment he only had two out of the three. "Anybody know where Arthur went?" Spencer asked.

"He's probably with the band," Molly informed him. "He's prone to giving last-minute pep talks to whoever's performing. I'm sure it's no different with The Crows."

"Then Stu will send him back here as soon as he's finished."

Stuart was attempting to do that very thing, if he could just persuade Arthur it was time to go. Finally Stu's patience grew thin. "Mr. Klein, would you please join Roger and Molly on the other side of the stage so we can do our jobs and protect you properly?"

Arthur quickly wrapped up his speech to the band and hurried to the other side of the stage, where Jeff, Roger and Molly were waiting for him.

Right before 7:30 the ten officers Gil sent over arrived, and Stu quickly gave them their assigned spots. Once he returned to the band, he knew he was ready for whatever might come their way tonight. Or at least he hoped he was.


	13. Chapter 13

Stone the Crows

Chapter 13

At exactly 7:45 the pickets started outside the Amphitheater. They were loud and could clearly be heard by everyone inside the Bowl. They were chanting "Morals for America" and had the outer security scrambling to keep everything orderly. Several of the inside personnel had to be reminded to stay at their positions.

Because this was a special concert, presenting, for the first time anywhere The Crows, there was no lead-in act. The band started at eight o'clock. Or at least they were supposed to start at eight o'clock. Actually, it was almost 8:30 before they decided they were ready to play, and as soon as their instruments hit the first note, Jason's group of protesters within the audience rose and began yelling "Morals for America." They were loud and they were rude and several of the security team tried to swoop in and shut them up. It seemed to be working when Marks' group, planted within the audience, stood and began chanting "Stone The Crows! Stone The Crows!" The security team had their hands full.

This was the very thing Stu worried about. He and Jeff briefly discussed a protest or disruption on multiple fronts, but no one thought that the MFA was strong or organized enough to pull that off. Obviously they miscalculated.

The MFA wasn't finished. At the exact moment that confusion reigned supreme, Shep's group stood and stormed the stage. Their objective was to get close enough to do just what they'd been chanting. From purses and beach bags, grocery bags and laundry bags, diaper bags and duffel bags, from every kind of bag imaginable, came the very weapon they'd been chanting about. Rocks and stones of all shapes and sizes were heaved towards the stage and the band. Stu tried desperately to get The Crows offstage, but they refused to go. He finally resorted to pulling two of the policemen off their posts and between the three of them they got the band moved to the wings, back where they were safe.

Jeff, at the first sign of trouble, had hustled the triumvirate he protected into the nearest office he could find and locked them in. He'd worry about how to get them out later. The last thing he'd seen was Stu taking a nasty blow to the side of the head just as he was rushing his group offstage, and he couldn't see if his partner was still on his feet or not. Bailey had protected The Crows from the MFA, but he'd failed to protect himself. He was draped across the lower part of the stage where he'd fallen after being hit in the head with a rock. The rock was large enough and the impact strong enough to render him unconscious.

The police and security personnel had all of the MFA groups under control, excepting Marie's group that had rushed the stage. They were still trying to get to the band members but when she realized it was a hopeless task she changed tactics. "Shep, Justin, come here. I need a little help."

By the time Jeff got to where he'd last seen Stu, there was no sign of his partner. He checked with the officers that had gotten the band offstage, but neither of them could remember seeing Bailey anywhere after he helped them. "He was right there," and the officer pointed to the spot where Stu had gone down, "as we moved the band to the wings. That's the last I saw of him."

One of the supervisors came forward and announced the concert would be rescheduled and all tickets would be honored on that date. The police had arrested almost twenty of the MFA members and were putting them into police cars to take to the precinct house on varying charges. Much as Jeff wanted to keep looking for Stu, he had to find someone who had a key to the office he'd locked Arthur, Roger and Molly in. Once he'd accomplished that task and promised Arthur he'd come down to the third-floor offices as soon as he was able, he launched an all-out search for Stuart. No one had seen him after he'd taken the blow to the head and gone down.

"The client, the client, the client," Jeff kept muttering over and over. He had to take care of the client; that's what Stu would want.

XXXXXXXX

"I can't believe we got away with that," Marie told Shep and Justin as they got out to one of the MFA vans with their booty. "This is almost as good as what we wanted to bring back."

"What are we gonna do with him now that we've got him?" Shep asked her.

"I don't know yet. But I have an idea or two. If nothing else, this gives us a pulpit to preach from."

"Better take a look at that cut on his head. It's pretty nasty looking," Justin pointed out.

"All in due time, my friends, all in due time."

XXXXXXXX

Jeff went down to Arthur's office, hoping against hope that Stu was there. No such luck. "Where's your partner, Jeff?" Arthur inquired.

"That seems to be the sixty-four thousand dollar question, doesn't it?" Jeff responded., more than a little worried.

"I wanted to present this to the both of you, but since Stu isn't here, I'll leave it in your capable hands." Arthur handed him a piece of paper, which turned out to be a check for ten-thousand dollars, the Bailey and Spencer second half fee.

"I can't accept this, Arthur. We didn't prevent a disruptive demonstration." Jeff shook his head as he tried to give the check back.

"Nonsense, my boy. You did everything I asked, and more. You protected the band, stopped a full-blown riot, and gave The Crows more publicity than I could afford to buy. I think you two did an outstanding job."

"Is that the only reason you hired us? For the publicity?" Jeff was annoyed, to say the least. And that was an unusual emotion for Jeff Spencer.

"No, Jeff, it isn't. I hired you to protect the band and to allow as little damage as possible. You were very successful in both of those areas. The publicity was an added bonus."

Jeff folded the check and put it in his wallet. "I'll take it, Arthur, but we may not keep it. I'll have to discuss it with Stu. We'll let you know." Jeff shook Roger's hand, then reluctantly shook Arthur's hand. Molly walked with him as far as her desk. "Can I call you?"

"I wish you would. You know I just work for him. I don't think like he does."

Jeff kissed her on the cheek. "I know. I'll miss seeing you every day."

Molly smiled shyly at him. "Me, too. Call me when you find Stuart."

"I will."

Jeff went back up to the performance level and immediately found Kookie. "That was a wild scene, dad. Say, where's Stu? I haven't seen him since this all started."

"I don't know, Kookie. I saw him get hit in the head with a rock and that's the last I saw of him. Do you think he went with the police?"

"Maybe. But wouldn't he have told you?"

"Under normal circumstances, yes. Let's get changed and go down to the precinct. I want to see what Gil thinks of the haul they made today."

They didn't have any better luck at the police station. "I haven't seen him since I first got there. He was trying to get the band offstage."

"Any chance he could have been taken to the hospital, Gil?" That was the next thing Jeff thought of.

"No, they only took two people to the hospital, and he wasn't one of them. What are you thinking?"

Jeff looked grim. "The only thing I can think. Morals for America has him."


	14. Chapter 14

Stone the Crows

Chapter 14

He didn't know whether it was the smell or the sting that woke him. The smell of something being used on his head or the sting of it actually being applied there. At first he wondered if he was in the hospital but when he felt the pull of a handcuff on his left wrist, he knew. Stu Bailey opened his eyes and confirmed his suspicions . . . Morals for America had him. He twisted his head far enough around that he could see who he was ministering to him, and found a pretty brunette of about twenty.

"What are you doing?"

"I'm trying to clean up this cut you got last night," the brunette answered.

"Where am I?"

"You are currently the guest of Morals for America, Mister Bailey," another female voice answered.

"And what do you intend to do with me?" he asked the second female voice.

"We haven't exactly decided yet. Trade you for something, I think. You can quit worrying, we have no intention of harming you."

"So this handcuff is what? An I.D. bracelet?"

"The handcuff is simply to prevent you from leaving." The voice finally walked around to where he could see her. She was a not unattractive blonde with a pinched looking face, about Jeff's age. She was dressed rather plainly in a white tee shirt and jeans.

"I saw you last night. You were yelling and throwing rocks at people."

"Something like that. Sadly, I was not the one that hit you."

"Ouch!"

"Sorry," the brunette told him. She was trying to be gentle, but he had quite a wound on the side of his head, and it had bled profusely, as head wounds always do. There was blood down the right and back sides of the white polo he wore. It took a while to get the blood cleaned out of his hair, and as soon as she did she poured more alcohol on the wound. Stu flinched this time but never made a sound. The girl finished her work and disappeared, leaving him alone with the second voice.

"My name's Marie. I'll let you know what we decide to do with you." And just like that she, too, was gone. He thought about sitting up but decided against it. Neither of the women had said anything about food, and he was decidedly hungry.

Time passed, quite a bit of it in his estimation, and there was nothing he could do but lie there, or sleep. Finally his aching head took over and forced him into sleep.

When he woke again it was with a start, and it took a minute to remember where he was. Then the pain in his arm and the pounding in his head reminded him. He lay there for a minute in the silence, until the opening of the door jolted him back to life.

"Hello?" he called.

The boy that had torn apart their offices the other night appeared. "Did you need something, Mr. Bailey?" he asked as he walked over to Stu's side.

"An aspirin? And something to eat?"

"Yeah, I guess we forgot about that. I'll see what I can do."

Ten, fifteen, twenty minutes passed, and Stuart was certain they'd forgotten about him again. Then he heard the door open and in just a minute the boy walked in with a cardboard tray on which was balanced a glass of water, a bottle of aspirin and a sandwich of some kind. He set the tray down on a desk and opened the aspirin bottle. "One or two?"

"Two, please." The aspirin was handed over, along with the glass of water. Once he'd swallowed those the boy handed him the sandwich, which rested precariously on a paper plate. Stu was so hungry that he took three bites before he slowed down enough to determine the sandwich was roast beef. By the time he looked up to say 'thank you' the boy was gone.

The afternoon moved even slower than the morning. He hoped Jeff and Gil were working together to try and find him. Or that MFA made a decision regarding what they intended to 'trade' him for. Before he lost his mind from boredom.

XXXXXXXX

"Don't you agree with me, Gil?" Jeff asked sincerely.

"I do agree with you, Jeff. But I don't know what good that's gonna do us." Truth be told, Gil assumed the MFA had already killed Stu; they would be lucky to find his body. He wasn't about to share that opinion with Jeff Spencer, however.

Every MFA member they had on a more serious charge than "Demonstrating Without a Permit" had told them the same thing . . . their first name. They hadn't gotten any more information until they questioned Sally Denton, who had broken and given them her full name. She seemed a sweet young girl, not the kind to be involved with the MFA. Then they got her to admit she'd only become a member because her brother belonged. His name was Donny. Gil joined the interview and got Sally to reveal for him the intention of the kidnapping – The Holy One believed the Morality Gods were demanding the blood of a non-believer. She wouldn't tell them if she believed that or divulge the location of the cult, only that it was 'close'.

Gil had his officers running license plates to see if they could find an address close by but so far, no luck. The more time that passed, the more certain it was that Stu was already dead.

Barring any further information from the LA police force, Jeff thought his best bet was to try questioning the KleinCo. staff again. He drove back to the Hollywood Bowl and was encouraged to find Arthur's and Molly's cars in the parking lot. He went to the door reserved for deliveries and rang the bell several times. Just when he was about to give up, Molly answered the door.

"Jeff, what are you doing here? Don't you know it's Sunday?" She sounded surprised.

"I might ask you the same thing."

"Arthur's flying to San Francisco tomorrow and there were a few last-minute details we needed to go over. Have you located Stu yet?"

"Yes and no. The MFA appears to have him, only we can't find out where they're located," he explained as they walked to the elevators. "Lieutenant Gilmore's working on his end, so I thought I might come back and talk to you and Arthur one more time. Maybe what I found out will trigger something."

When they got downstairs they went straight to Arthur's office. Jeff sat down and explained why he was there and began his questioning. They'd gone back and forth for about twenty minutes when he asked Molly if the name Sally Denton sounded familiar.

"Denton does, but Sally doesn't."

"What about Donny Denton?" he continued.

"That's it. Donny Denton worked here about two months. I knew Denton was familiar."

"Would you have his home address? This could be really important, Molly."

She answered him as she headed for her area. "Sure. I have it in my filing cabinet. Come with me."

They went back to her desk, where she kept the locked cabinet, and she checked in the drawer marked 'Terminated.' "Here it is. 1492 Jefferson Street, North Hollywood. I'll write it down for you." As soon as she handed the address to Jeff, he was off running. "Thanks, Molly, I owe you."

He drove straight to the Hollywood precinct and Gilmore's office. "I've got an address for Sally Denton's brother. Here. How fast can we get there?"

"Five minutes if we use the siren, ten if we don't."

Jeff was torn. He wanted to get there as fast as possible, but that was taking too big a risk. "Ten minutes it is, Gil."

"Let's go, Jeff," Gil told Spencer as he headed for the door. _'I hope we can find them and we're not too late,' _the Lieutenant thought to himself.


	15. Chapter 15

Stone the Crows

Chapter 15

The headlines in the Los Angeles Times screamed: "Violence Erupts at Hollywood Bowl Concert." Those in the Examiner read: "Crows Concert Begins and Ends in Violent Clashes with Police." Morals for America wasn't mentioned unless you read the stories associated with each headline. Stu Bailey's disappearance was printed, almost as an afterthought, in both papers.

Marie read through each story and knew the Holy One was not going to be happy. All the time and effort wasted on disrupting the concert, and the MFA failed to grab even one headline. She threw the papers down in disgust and went in to see Bailey.

"How are you this morning, Mr. Bailey?"

"Getting tired of laying here waiting for you to decide my fate." Stu was willing to say anything that would push the MFA into some kind of action.

"Don't worry, a decision will be made shortly."

"Whatever you're going to do, do it. Get it over with."

'_This is a strange man,'_ Marie thought. _'In such a hurry to face whatever the Holy One has planned for him.'_ "I told you before, Mr. Bailey, we're not going to harm you." Even as she said it she knew it might be a lie.

Stu knew it, too. He'd heard the whispers from the other cult members; the MFA hadn't gotten the publicity they'd hoped for. Newspapers focused on Klein's group, the Crows. Radio and television talked about the violent clashes that 'unnamed subjects' had with the Bowl personnel and police. Mentions of the MFA were almost as scarce as mentions about his disappearance. They'd need something more dramatic, more heinous, to get the media focused on the MFA. He shuddered to think what that might be.

Just then Donny came into the room with the same thing he'd brought every meal – a glass of water and a sandwich of some sort. And the bottle of aspirin, just in case. This time Stu needed the aspirin; his head was throbbing again.

Every time the door to the room opened, he hoped it would be Jeff or Gil or both. He knew they'd come eventually . . . but he wondered if it would be in time.

XXXXXXXX

Gil pulled the unmarked car up to 1492 Jefferson Street in North Hollywood. It was a neat looking blue house, with rose bushes growing in front. Jeff followed Gil to the door and Gil's knock was quickly answered by a gray-haired woman almost as neat looking as the house.

"Lieutenant Gilmore with the LAPD, ma'am. Is this the residence of Donny or Sally Denton?" He showed her his badge as he asked the question

"Why, yes, Lieutenant. They both live there; they're my grandchildren. Have they done something?"

"I'm not sure, ma'am. May we come in and ask you a few questions?"

She held the door open. "Of course."

Once they were inside, Jeff pulled out his P.I. License. "Jeff Spencer, working with Lieutenant Gilmore on a case. Are you Mrs. Denton?"

"Yes, Mr. Spencer, I'm the original. Bill Denton was my son, and Donny and Sally's father. Won't you gentlemen have a seat?"

"Thank you, Mrs. Denton. We're trying to get some information on a group that both of your grandchildren are associated with. Have you heard of Morals for America?" Gil asked her.

"Only because Donny and Sally told me about the group."

Jeff asked the next question. "Do you happen to know where the group's headquarters are located?"

"Why, they're right here in North Hollywood," Mrs. Denton replied.

"Do you know where in North Hollywood?" Gil's turn again.

"I'm sure I have their address somewhere. I made the children give it to me. Let me look in my address book." She got up and went to another room. When she came back she had a blue address book in her hands. "They sounded like such an upstanding organization." She leafed through the book for a minute or two before looking up and smiling. "Here it is. 6318 Silverlake Blvd."

"When did you see them last, Mrs. Denton?"

"Why, yesterday afternoon. Sally stayed over at a friend's house and Donny's been at work."

Jeff was halfway out the door before Gil ever got up from his seat. "Thank you, Mrs. Denton. You've been a big help."

"Lieutenant, are they in trouble?"

"I don't know yet, Mrs. Denton." Gil hurried after Jeff before Mrs. Denton could ask any more questions. When he got in the car he turned to the Private Investigator. "No siren?"

"No siren."

Gilmore called for backup but stressed that sirens were not to be used. 6318 Silverlake Blvd. was an abandoned retail store of some kind. There were ten or twelve cars parked outside. Gil parked around the back. "Let's go," Jeff implored Gil.

"Hold it, Jeff. If we go charging in there they're liable to kill him. Let's take it slow, just the two of us."

"Alright, Gil. One in front and one in back?" Jeff asked as he pulled his gun.

"Yes. You take the front, I'll take the back."

Jeff headed around front and tried the door. It was unlocked. He turned the knob and went in quietly, trying to find the most likely spot to hold a hostage. He heard footsteps and ducked behind a stack of boxes. When it was once again quiet he found his way into the next room. More of the same, empty space and stacked boxes. He could hear voices coming from the next room, a woman and a man. It sounded like the man left the room, and just the woman's voice continued. Another female voice answered the first one, and Jeff could hear them leaving, heading toward the back of the building.

The door to the next room was closed. Once it was opened, the room appeared to be empty except for what looked like a bed sitting next to a substantial metal rack. Just as he started to look away the flash of something caught his eye. He focused on the spot where he'd seen the glint and realized he was looking at handcuffs . . . and a wrist. There was only one person that would be in handcuffs.

Jeff made his way carefully and quietly across the room, getting close enough to see the body in the bed. Right then he'd give everything he had for it to be the back of Stu Bailey.

"


	16. Chapter 16

Stone the Crows

Chapter 16

Jeff crept stealthily across the expanse that separated him from the man in the bed. When he was close enough to be heard he whispered, "Stu. Psst, Stu."

There was no movement or response of any kind and he redoubled his efforts. "Stu. Stuart. Psst, Stu, it's Jeff."

Then, at last, the sound of that familiar voice. "Jefferson?"

"Want to go home?"

"How?"

"I came in the front entrance. Gil's coming from the back entrance."

"Find Marie. She's got the key to these blasted things." Stu turned his head slightly and caught sight of his partner. "What took you so long?"

"I had to stop for lunch first."

Stu groaned. "I'd laugh, but I think these people were trying to starve me."

"I'll take you to Dino's for a steak."

"Do you promise?"

Jeff stopped himself from laughing, afraid he'd make too much noise. There was a loud commotion from the back of the building, and he assumed Gil had turned their backup loose. Confirmation came in the form of Lieutenant Gilmore, who was soon standing next to Jeff. "I think these will come in handy," and he moved to the other side of the bed and used the keys he'd taken from Marie to unlock Stu's handcuffs. Bailey sat up and shook his left arm, trying to get some circulation back in it.

"I had one of the officer's radio for an ambulance. It's waiting for you out back, " Gilmore said firmly.

"I don't . . . " Stu started before Gil interrupted him.

"Don't tell me you don't need an ambulance. They'll check you out and if everything is alright, we'll send them back to the hospital. You do this or I'll have these handcuffs put back on you," Gilmore threatened.

"Listen to him, Stu. We were afraid we'd find you . . . well, just listen to him," Jeff pleaded.

"Alright, if it will make the two of you happy." Stu slid off the bed and almost fell over. Jeff and Gil grabbed him. "Just a little wobbly," he claimed.

"A lot wobbly," Gil repeated with doubt in his voice.

The police Lieutenant and the P.I. got Stu through the back of the warehouse and handed him over to the ambulance doctor. After a thorough examination, the doctor told Gil and Jeff, "He definitely has a concussion, and he'll need stitches. And I don't like his blood pressure; it's much too low. Maybe it's dehydration, maybe it's not. I'd like to take him in and keep him overnight just to be safe."

Stu tried to shake his head 'no' and got light-headed all over again. For once he didn't argue, but he made the doctor promise no sirens. Once the ambulance was off, Jeff turned back to the Lieutenant. "Any sign of the Holy One?"

"No, and we're still at an impasse with our questioning. No one will divulge who he is or what he looks like."

"Are you going to keep surveillance on the building?"

Gil looked grim. "Twenty-four hours a day. We're going to keep after Sally Denton, too. She seems to be one of the weak links in this organization."

Jeff was concerned about another Denton. "Are you going back to tell Mrs. Denton where her grandchildren are?"

"No. She'll be notified in the usual manner."

"Do you mind if I go see her?" Jeff felt sorry for her; she had no idea what Sally and Donny had been up to.

Gil shook his head. "No. Go right ahead."

Ten minutes later a patrol car dropped Jeff off at 1492 Jefferson Street. A knock on the door and he once again had a smiling Mrs. Denton before him. "Mr. Spencer, please come in. Do you have any news about Sally and Donny?"

XXXXXXXX

An hour later Jeff was in Stu's hospital room, listening to him grumble. "I don't need to be here. They could have taken the stitches and sent me home."

Jeff grinned. " I don't care how unhappy you are with being here. The doctor said you had a concussion and low blood pressure. Those aren't things you want to fool with. Stay here tonight and we'll see what he has to say in the morning."

"Yes, mother. Do you have any more information on the Holy One?"

A shake of the head from Jeff. "Nope. Nobody's talking. Gil's working on one of the members that's already given us some information. There's almost a hundred members, so it's going to take a while to get through them all."

"And you don't have any leads?"

"Nary a one. You hear anything that the cult wouldn't want repeated?"

"He was there, once. I woke up and heard him arguing with Marie. I can tell you is it's definitely a man. The voice was disguised."

"Would you know it if you heard it again?" Jeff asked his partner.

"I don't know. Maybe. I keep thinking there was something familiar about it, but I can't place it. And that could be my imagination."

"Possibly. Or it could be the last person we'd suspect, like Arthur. Let's see if Gil gets anywhere with the cult members. I'll check in the morning, and if they're going to release you I'll come by and pick you up."

"Thanks, mother. I'd rather not drive for a few days. Just to be safe."

"Stu . . . I'm sorry it took so long to find you. I'm glad. . . well, I'm just glad we found you when we did."

"So am I, Jefferson."


	17. Chapter 17

Stone the Crows

Chapter 17

The police had missed him by no more than ten minutes. He was headed south on Silverlake Boulevard, while the sirens were all traveling north on the same street. He was broken-hearted, knowing the police had gotten some of his best people. At least he wouldn't be starting from scratch; he'd already found another location and moved a few of the cult members there. He did regret losing Marie, she was one of the most efficient people in the organization.

MFA started out as a way to bring morality back to America. Murder, mayhem, violence of all sorts had taken root in the United States; it was corrupting today and threatening tomorrow. It wasn't too late, if the population would just see the destructive turn their morals had taken. Some had embraced the chance to change the path they were headed down. Some few. Part of the problem lay in the inability to spread their message of redemption far and wide. Demonstrations brought their movement to the front pages of the papers. More people joined; the demonstrations grew bigger.

The Hollywood Bowl was to be the protest that would show America it was not too late; that the country could rid itself of the evil that had taken root. The Crows were a symbol of all that was wrong today, and by putting an end to them before they got started would illustrate to people they could rid themselves of the false Gods that had taken over their lives.

But nothing had gone as planned. They even went so far as to steal the blueprints for special security that was planned for just such an occurrence, and they found themselves not with a band member but with the designer of that security. People had to see; evil in all forms had to be forcibly rooted out and destroyed. So the decision was made there would still be a sacrifice to appease the Morality Gods. And that sacrifice would be Stuart Bailey.

The sirens told him all their plans were for naught. He sighed; they would find another symbol.

XXXXXXXX

Questioning at the North Hollywood police station went on all night. Sally Denton broke and told them everything she knew, which wasn't much. She'd never seen the Holy One, she didn't know of any other locations, she was a new recruit in a large army. When Mrs. Denton came with an attorney, they let her go home with her grandmother.

Jeff stopped on the way to the hospital to see if Gil had learned anything more. "Not a thing," Gil told him, "but I think I might. One of the members seems to be weakening."

"Would that happen to be Marie?" Jeff inquired.

"It might," Gil replied. "Don't you have somewhere to be, Spencer?"

"I do, but you'll see me again."

"That's a promise I could live without."

Jeff hurried to Saint Mary's Hospital to pick up his partner. He knew Stu well enough to know that the doctors' stood absolutely no chance of keeping him another day. When he got to the hospital Stu was dressed and sitting in his room, waiting. "Doctor wouldn't release me until he could talk to you," Bailey grumbled.

Jeff took a seat and waited. The doctor would be in soon; the nurses had seen him come in. Sure enough, he'd just gotten comfortable when a doctor entered the room. "Mr. Spencer, your friend is a very nice man, and he lies convincingly. I knew I had better give you my instructions and not him."

"I think the doctors got your number, Stu. Go ahead doctor; I'll do my best to adhere to your instructions."

"I've given Mr. Bailey some medicine to take for three or four days; it should help with the dizziness he's experiencing. I want him to stay in bed or rest for the next two days; then he can begin some light walking. His head wound was severe, I took thirty-seven stitches in it. Some spotting is to be expected, but if there is a significant amount of leakage, call me. We may have to hospitalize him again. That means, Mr. Bailey, if you insist on returning to work before you've started to heal, you'll be back here with me again. And Angie and Jessie and Mary and Susan." The doctor whispered to Jeff, "Mr. Bailey seemed to be quite popular with the nurses." Out loud he asked, "Do either of you have any questions?"

"No," Stu answered.

"No, doctor, thank you."

"Good, I'll send Angie in with a wheelchair." And the doctor was gone.

"You're going to behave, aren't you?" Jeff asked plaintively.

"Of course, considering the alternative," came the polite reply."When can we go to Dino's? You promised me a steak."

"In two days. Don't make me send Kookie over to watch you."

An attractive nurse came in with a wheelchair. "Your chariot awaits you, Mr. Bailey."

"Must I?"

She nodded. "Hospital policy."

Stu sighed. "Alright."

"Are you taking him to the front entrance, Angie?" Jeff questioned.

"Yes, sir."

"I'll bring the car around."

In no time at all they were on their way to Stu's apartment. "Could you go to . . . "

Jeff stopped him. "No, I can't go by Gil's office first, or our office, for that matter. I'm taking you home, as promised."

"You can be very difficult, you know that?"

"Touché."

Jeff deposited him at the door and told Stu to wait. He parked the car and hurried back to the apartment. For once Stu listened and was still standing at the door, leaning against the door frame. Jeff was surprised until Stu remarked, "I had to wait for you. I was afraid I'd fall."

"Good, at least something kept you in one spot."

Once inside there was no arguing with Stuart. He would go to the couch, but not the bed, "As long as you phone Gil."

Jeff sighed for a change and went right to the phone. "Gil . . ."

"Did you get him home?"

"Yes, I did, and he insisted . . . "

"That you phone me." Gil couldn't help but laugh. "I don't have any new information for you yet."

"Nobody's talking?"

"Not yet."

"Try Marie," Stu called from the sofa.

Jeff asked Gil, "Did you hear that?"

"Tell him that's who I'm working on."

"Will do. Thanks, Gil."

Jeff hung up the phone and sat down in a chair. Stu waited for him to say something, but Jeff just smiled. Finally, Stuart could wait no longer. "Don't tell me, let me guess. He said that was who he was working on."

"Why do I even bother with a phone call? You two know exactly what the other one is going to say."

"That's because Gilmore is so predictable. I want to go to the office."

"No."

"All I'm going to do there is sit down."

"No."

Jeff went back to the phone and dialed. "Suzanne, is Kookie there? Let me speak to him, please. Kookie, I've got a babysitting job for you. That's right. I'll wait until you get here."

Stu looked like an unhappy three-year-old. "I don't need a babysitter."

"Yes, you do, and he'll be here shortly."

"I'll get even with you for this, Spencer."

"I know you will, Bailey."


	18. Chapter 18

Stone the Crows

Chapter 18

"I can't tell you, I can't tell you, I can't tell you," and Marie put her head down on the table and sobbed. "I want to go to sleep. I need to go to sleep. Please let me go to sleep," she begged through her tears. The detective was relentless; they'd been at this for almost twenty-four hours, starting at midnight of the day she was brought in. The relentless detective, of course, was Lieutenant Gilmore.

"We'll let you go to sleep, Marie, as soon as you tell us who the Holy One is. One little name, and you can sleep all you want. Just one."

She pulled herself together and sat up straight. "No. I can't betray him."

'_This a tough one, alright,'_ Gilmore thought to himself. Out loud he told her, "I can't let you sleep without a name."

"I can't. I can't do it." She sat with her head in her hands for a few minutes, and when she looked up her eyes were clear and her voice was firm. "I won't do it."

This was going to take longer than he expected.

XXXXXXXX

Stuart had been confined to quarters for almost two days. The dizziness had gone away, for the most part, and there had been no bleeding. Jeff had promised they would go to dinner at Dino's tonight, and Kookie had allowed Stuart to take a shower by himself. Getting clean without assistance was a major step in the right direction.

Kookie had been there for most of the two days. Jeff knew he'd pay for it later, but it was the only way he could be sure that Stu would abide by what the doctor told him. Stuart's biggest complaint was that Kookie was nowhere near as good looking as Angie or Jessie or Mary or Susan. Having Kookie there to bounce ideas off of was a real help, however, and he believed he had the whole thing figured out. He'd be able to test that theory very soon. Unless Gil beat him to it.

Kookie drove Stu to the office, and Stuart almost cried with relief. He couldn't imagine spending day after endless day inside his apartment, or any apartment for that matter. The only thing it had afforded him was time to think. And he'd done plenty of that.

He climbed out of the car and made his way inside the Bailey and Spencer offices. Suzanne was already gone for the day but Roscoe was there, and he greeted Stu enthusiastically. "Feeling better?" he asked.

"Much better," came the quick reply. "Is Jeff in his office?"

"You betcha."

He knocked on the door and heard that familiar voice, so full of enthusiasm and excitement and hope. "Come in."

"Your dinner date has arrived," Stu announced as he opened it.

"My, she's looking very lovely tonight."

"Thank you. I thought so, too."

"Alright, your confinement is over," Jeff announced with glee. "You are hereby cleared to resume normal life. And you have no idea how happy I am to have you back."

"And you have no idea how happy I am to be back," Stu asserted. "I take it things have been a bit crazy?"

"A bit crazy? That's the understatement of the decade. And to top it off, Suzanne has a terrible cold and I told her to stay home."

"Good, she shouldn't be here if she's sick. Anything that won't wait until tomorrow?"

Jeff chuckled maniacally. "Nothing unless you can tell Gil who the Holy One is."

"I just might be able to. But let's go to dinner first. I'm absolutely famished," Stu pronounced.

"Wait a minute. You know who the Holy One is? And you want to go to dinner first?" Two days of laying on the couch had made Stuart crazy. Jeff was sure of that.

"Yes, I do. Because we have to go somewhere when we're done. You have two choices, Jefferson. You go to Dino's with me, or you go to Dino's with me. Either one sound good?"

Jeff almost burst out laughing. Trust Stu to say something to make him laugh. "Alright, I prefer the first choice. Let's go to Dino's."

And that's exactly what they did.

XXXXXXXX

The Holy One had been plotting and scheming all day. He determined that he needed Marie's head for details, so he had to find a way to get her out of jail. And then the two of them could plan whatever was to come next for Morals for America.

But how? He certainly couldn't break her out, but he could bail her out. He phoned the police precinct to find out what her bail would be, and he was told that had yet to be determined. Be reasonable, he told himself. They can't hold her without bail forever. And when he got her back, they could take care of whatever was to come next for MFA.

XXXXXXXX

Stu was savoring every bite of steak he took. He'd really indulged for this meal, which was something he rarely did. Dino's famous dinner salad with Russian dressing, steamed broccoli, medium-rare steak, and brandy for dessert. He was full, to say the least, and a smile crept across his lips. Jeff saw it and beamed.

"Good dinner?" he asked Stu.

"You know it was. The only thing missing was a lovely lady to share it with."

"You mean I'm not pretty enough?" Jeff smiled wickedly and batted his eyes.

"You're too tall. And we have somewhere to go," Stu replied.

"Where?"

"I'll give you directions once we're in the car."

"Or you could just drive," Jeff told him.

"Not just yet."

Kookie pulled the car around for them and Jeff got behind the wheel. Stuart proceeded to give him the directions, and Jeff just stared at him. "But that's –

"That's right. It is."

Spencer shook his head. "You were on that couch too long, Stuart."

"Just drive, Jeff."


	19. Chapter 19

Stone the Crows

Chapter 19

Jeff followed Stu's directions and pulled into the lot they'd spent so many days parked in. The guard at the door recognized them and let them in, and they went straight to the elevators. When they got to the right floor they were greeted by a familiar face – Molly. "Stu, it's good to see you looking so well," she proclaimed as she gave him a hug. "Hello, Jeff," was followed by another hug. "Was Arthur expecting you?"

"No, Molly, and it's urgent that we see him right away," Stu told her. "And it's good to see you, too," he added.

"Come to my desk and I'll get him for you. Roger, too?"

"Not right now," Jeff answered. "Can you come in with us?"

"If that's what you want, sure." When they got to her desk Molly stuck her head in Arthur's office. "Arthur, Jeff and Stu are here to see you. Stu said it's urgent."

They could hear Arthur's voice but not what he said. It must have been in the affirmative because Molly led them into the office and closed the door behind her. When Klein looked at her rather oddly, she simply told him, "They asked me to come in."

"Well, Jeff, it's good to see you as always. And Stuart, I'm glad you're in one piece and back to looking healthy. What can I do for you boys this evening?"

Jeff answered the question. He wasn't looking forward to this, any more than Stu was. "Arthur, you know that Stu wasn't the only one we were looking for. We were trying to determine the identity of the Holy One, as the Morals for America members called him. Stu believes he now knows who that is."

"Don't keep me in suspense, Stu. Who is it?"

Stu sat up a little straighter in the chair. "Molly, fix Arthur a drink."

"Scotch, rocks, Molly," Klein requested. "You boys want anything?"

"I'll have one of those, too, Molly." At the last minute, Stu decided he'd feel better with a drink in his hand.

Jeff shook his head. "Nothing for me."

Molly brought the drinks over and then took a seat. Stu took a swallow of his, and Arthur followed suit. "Well, Stu?"

"Arthur, Molly, I believe that the Holy One is . . . Roger Bryzinski."

"You're joking, right? Surely this is a joke?"

"No, Arthur, I'm afraid it's not a joke. Roger is the man we've been looking for."

Arthur shook his head, refusing to believe Stu. "No, it can't be. Roger's worked for me for years. You must be wrong. Tell him he's wrong, Molly."

From the look on Molly's face she was far less surprised than her boss. "Tell him about the rants, Jeff. The ones I told you about. And the yelling."

"I think you should tell him, Molly."

Arthur looked at his secretary. "Tell me, Molly."

Molly gulped, and Stu handed her his glass. She took a swallow of the scotch and began. "Hadn't you noticed, Arthur, that you and Roger were having more arguments lately? And when you argued, Roger was quick to begin yelling?"

"Yes, but . . . "

"What you didn't hear, Arthur was Roger ranting and raving to me after one of those arguments. He threatened outlandish things – he was glowing to blow the place up; he'd quit working for you, he'd destroy KleinCo., things like that."

"Why didn't you tell me?" Arthur asked incredulously.

"Would you have believed me?"

Arthur answered her honestly. "Maybe . . . maybe not."

"He calmed down quickly afterwards – maybe a little too quickly. He almost seemed like a different person after he'd raised such a fuss."

"That's not all, Arthur. When the MFA had me, the Holy One was there one day . . . arguing with Marie about something trivial. I heard him speak. The voice was disguised, but there was something familiar about it. Later I realized why. It was Roger."

"Who is this Marie?"

"The Holy One's second in command." Molly had kept Stu's drink and fixed him another. He swirled the ice around a bit and then took a swallow. "Call Roger in here and we'll find out."

Jeff and gone out to Molly's desk and used her phone to call Lieutenant Gilmore. He came back in and told Klein, "You might want to wait a minute. Lieutenant Gilmore's already on his way here."

"Already?" Stu asked. "He must have broken Marie."

Just then the overhead intercom buzzed. It was the guard at the back door. "Mr. Klein, there's a Lieutenant Gilmore here to see you. Shall I let him in?"

"Yes, please, Harry. Go get him, would you, Molly?"

Molly and Gil were back in under ten minutes. "Well, I see you beat me to it. Where's the suspect?" Gil didn't waste any time.

"In his office next door. Have a seat Lieutenant. Roger, would you come in here, please?"

"Certainly, Arthur," Roger answered. Bryzinski opened the door and stopped abruptly when he saw the people sitting inside. "You didn't tell me you were having a party, Arthur."

"Please come in, Roger. Have a seat. Stu and Jeff have told me a preposterous story and I want you to refute it."

"What story is that, Arthur?" Roger asked calmly, his eyes never leaving the Lieutenant.

"The story that you're the one that Morals for America calls the Holy One."

The room got eerily quiet until Roger Bryzinski stood up. "I can't tell you it's a preposterous story, Arthur, because it's not." Gil and Stu both reached for their guns; Gil drew his.

"Roger Bryzinski, you're under arrest for inciting a riot, attempting to commit murder, and so many other charges I can't begin to enumerate them all."

In a split second Roger produced a gun, grabbed Molly and used her as a shield. Gil didn't have time to get a shot off. "Who figured it out? Certainly not Arthur. You Lieutenant? Or did you have somebody snitch to you? Bailey? I knew I should have gotten rid of you sooner." He looked down at Jeff, then laughed and shook his head. "I know it wasn't you, Spencer." He started moving towards the door, holding Molly in front of him. "All your brilliant ideas, Arthur. You had a perfectly good career, and a record label that produced good music, and you had to trade it in for that trash. How could you do it? How could you throw it all away like that? Somebody had to do something to stop you, and anybody that thought to follow you. So I did. Roger Bryzinski, your personal whipping boy.

"I'm going to leave now, gentlemen, and if anyone tries to follow me I'll put some pretty little holes into pretty little Molly. I've nothing left to lose, Bailey, so just take your hand out of your jacket. If I even think you're going to pull what's in that shoulder holster, I'll finish the job the MFA started on you. Everyone just sit quietly until I have time to get out of here and Molly won't get hurt."

Bryzinski backed out of the room and had Molly close the door behind them. Gil jumped up and went for the door until Stu stopped him. "He's serious, Gil. He'll kill her."

"Harry, Roger Bryzinski is coming upstairs with Molly. He's got a gun on her, Harry. Go outside and lock the door so that he can't get out. And don't be foolish, Harry. You're too close to retirement."

"He's liable to take it out on Molly," Jeff worried.

"I don't think so," Stu offered. "I think he'll leave her someplace, believing he can get out the back door. He likes Molly; he doesn't really want to hurt her. Gil, let's go."

"Stay here, Stu."

"Gil, he wants me for some reason. If he sees me and he's still got her he'll step away to fire. That gives you a clear shot at him."

"And what if he doesn't? Stay here. There's back-up right outside the door."

Gil opened the door and left, Stu following him anyway. Jeff hadn't worn his gun, so he stayed with Arthur. Stu had to wait for the elevator, Gil was already on his way up. When it came back down, Bailey stepped in and pressed 'M' for Main Level. When the doors opened he saw just what he'd feared – Roger was pounding on the back door to get out, with Molly in front of him. Gil still didn't have a clear shot. Stu called, "Bryzinski" and, just as he'd predicted, Roger pushed Molly aside to take a shot at him. Gil fired and hit his target dead center. As Roger dropped to the floor, Stu ran forward and grabbed Molly.

"Shh, it's alright now. It's all over and you're safe," he told the sobbing girl as he held her in his arms.

"Bailey, I oughta ask them to pull your license. Didn't I tell you to stay downstairs?"

Stu just looked at Gil. "And didn't he do just what I told you he'd do?"

"Get out of here before I do something I'll regret," the Lieutenant ordered him.

"Gladly," and the private investigator gently walked the hostage back to the elevator.

_tbc _


	20. Chapter 20

Stone the Crows

Chapter 20

It took almost two hours for everything to settle down. The coroner had come and gone, the police moved the body, Stu was cleared of any wrong-doing, and Lieutenant Gilmore and all of his back up returned to the precinct. Jeff had taken over comforting Molly and Stu tried his best to explain everything to Arthur.

"I just don't understand it, Stu. I never gave Roger a hard time and I thought he did his job well. What did I do wrong?"

"You wanted to try something new, Arthur – The Crows. And Roger found them morally repugnant. He wanted you to stick with what you'd been doing all these years. That was safe and sane to Roger, and when you wouldn't do what he wanted, he had to find a way to stop you. Somewhere along the way he lost the ability to reason like a sane man, and he slowly turned into the Holy One."

Arthur shook his head. "Where am I going to find someone as good as Roger? He was an excellent manager."

"I can make a suggestion, Arthur, and you may want to think about it before you say no. Jeff and I worked with Molly almost exclusively all these weeks. She knows as much as Roger, if not more, and she's a darned sight better to look at. What's more, she actually likes the sound The Crows make – something that couldn't be said about Roger."

"But then I lose my right hand!" Arthur proclaimed.

"But you get a left hand. You can find a new secretary, Arthur. But you don't find a Molly every day."

"They'd laugh at me in the industry, Stu."

"They've laughed at you before Arthur, and you've always come out on top. What do you care if they laugh? She needs something to challenge her, Arthur, and being your secretary doesn't."

"You know, you may be on to something. Tell me honestly, Stu, what do you think of The Crows?"

Stuart was hesitant to give Arthur his honest opinion. "You want the truth, Arthur?"

"Yes, I do."

"I think they're awful."

Arthur Klein burst out laughing. "I think the same thing, Stuart."

"Then why . . . ?"

"I have a friend in England who's been telling me all about the English music scene. Things are changing rapidly over there, and I wanted to be ahead of the curve in the USA. I just happened to find a group with the right look but the wrong sound. I think I'll wait a while before I try anything like this again. I do appreciate everything you and Jeff did to try and make this work. Let's face it, Stu, the cards were stacked against you from the very start."

"In a manner of speaking, yes."

"I'll think about your observations concerning Molly."

"That's all I can expect, Arthur."

"You're probably right about her, but I'm not sure a woman can handle that job."

Stu turned in his chair to face Jeff. "You ready to go, partner?"

"I am, Mr. Bailey."

Jeff said his goodbyes to Molly and kissed her on the cheek. Then he reached across Arthur's desk and shook hands with Klein. "It's been an interesting experience, Mr. Klein."

Stu said goodbye to Molly and whispered something to her. The look on her face was pure astonishment. "Take care, Arthur."

"You too, Stuart."

As they walked to the elevator, Jeff appeared deep in thought. Finally, he looked up and asked, "What did you tell Molly that was such a surprise?"

A little smile played across Stu's face. He looked like the cat that ate the canary. "That I recommended her for Roger's job."

"You didn't!"

"I did, too."

"Will wonders never cease," came out of Jeff's mouth.

"Now, don't take that attitude. She's more than qualified for the job."

"You never cease to surprise me, Stu Bailey."

Stu was quiet or a moment before he asked, "How about a nightcap?"

"At Dino's?"

"At Dino's."

"Sounds good to me," and they headed for Dino's. That was another case in the books.

The End


End file.
